


by providence

by KiriKay



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: ;), Alternate Universe, Characters to be added, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Self Indulgent As Fuck, Underage Drinking, a surprise face!, back alley makeouts, but also i want to do whatever i want bc this isssss, like super self indulgent nonsense for me to Do What I Want, theyre idols but its more western bc thats the industry i understand, this aint catoptromancy kiddos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15013088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiriKay/pseuds/KiriKay
Summary: Ai Mikaze is the prodigal protégé of renowned, now retired and reclusive, ex-idol Aine Kisaragi. Nobody knows who he is or who represents him, exactly; Ai has two albums out online under the pseudonym “Providence” and they’re both licensed under Shining Agency, but nobody has ever really seen him.Ranmaru Kurosaki is a rising star in the rock scene, and is more akin to a volcano than an idol-- beautiful to watch, but too easy to get burned by. His acerbic personality makes him impossible to pin down, and he jumps bands like a grasshopper with particularly bad ADHD. Every outlet has their two cents in on him, and he’s never quite cared.What starts as an innocent but fun meeting between the two ends in a PR stunt from hell, and all of it is Reiji’s fault.





	1. ineffability brought us here

Ai let's Aine fret over him, keeping a sense of calm that will hopefully rub off on Aine if he holds on long enough. He keeps checking on Ai’s makeup, light but done to emphasize, then on his clothes, pale and accentuating, and then on his hair, braided on the left with his bangs strategically mused on the right, only to cycle back onto his face once more. Ai rests a hand on Aine’s shoulder, stopping him.

“Aine.” Ai says slowly, looking him in the eyes. “It’s going to be fine. Everything will go smoothly.”

Aine bites his lip, leg jittering anxiously; he keeps looking Ai over, as if distressed over everything Ai  _ was _ .

“I know, and you're smart enough to pick up slack if things go wrong,” Aine replies. “But maybe I should go with you?”

“We both know you'd die of anxiety if you did.”

Aine cringes and lets Ai guide him to the desk chair in the room. Aine’s room was a clutter of life-- there's trinkets from his travels, colorful clothes piled on one side of the bed, and boxes of palettes on the desk. Ai lazily picks at Aine’s hair, pushing it away from his face and twisting it into different hair styles as he speaks.

“It’s going to go perfect,” Ai murmurs soothingly. “You did the best you could; it's a small venue, it’s got great security, and it's got a good reputation. It's a good place to have a quiet debut.”

“And that’s what I want!” Aine assures, fingers digging into his pants. “It's great for your image, nice, private, yanno, mysterious, but what if I'm wrong? What if this is the  _ worst _ way of having you show your face?”

“Then we’ll fix it.” Ai says firmly.

“How dare you be more emotionally stable than your own manager.” Aine whines, covering his face with a huff.

“Because  _ I'm _ the smart cousin.”

“Jerk.”

“ _ That _ is where we correlate.”

Aine laughs and rubs his eyes slowly, and Ai knows his fear won't stop until Ai comes back with a good report. Ai had full faith though; after two online album releases, countless anonymous livestream sessions, and a charming social media presence, he’s 100% sure his physical debut would be just fine. After all the stress of Aine’s  _ very _ public idol life that fell apart, they had both decided to try a different approach.

Everything was going to be fine, though.

* * *

Everything does, in fact, go perfectly fine initially. Aine texts Ai from the moment he's out of their shared apartment til Ai has to put his phone down and get ready. He pulls a little stunt at the beginning, speaking over the sound system from behind the curtain to a swarm of people who had bought tickets to meet someone they had never even seen, not even in a picture, before.

The moment Ai actually gets on stage, he realizes he loves it. He loves singing live and he loves seeing that his audience is engaged; he just loves the whole experience, and by the end he realizes that his love might not only extend to the musical aspects, but to the attachments him and his audience share.

He doesn't regret the whole emphasis of privacy, though, because by the time he's done signing a hundred things as Providence, he’s ready to not see another person that isn't Aine for the next few weeks. Of course, though, he couldn't quite go home yet; Aine had set up a little post-show dinner, conveniently placed in a restaurant-bar hybrid that  _ quite _ a few idols frequented. And then he sent his boyfriend after Ai to make sure he didn't, like,  _ die _ or something, as Reiji puts it.

“That's stupid.” Ai says matter-of-factly at Reiji, legs crossed under the table. “I mean, he could have at least invited Camus instead.”

“Because starting you off with scandal is the right way?” Reiji teases. “Ai-Ai, do you just not want to spend time with your big brother anymore?”

“I see you, like,  _ everyday _ ‘Ji, I think we're good in the bonding department.” Ai shoots back, rolling his eyes. “I think I need to spend  _ less _ time with you. I’m sure if he knew Camus would have come with me; his plane doesn’t leave until two days from now, and I’d appreciate him more.”

“How cold!”

“You're still going to make out with my cousin and not let me sleep tonight, so I think I'm allowed.”

“. . . you two are too similar.” Reiji squeaks out as Ai stands.

“Sounds like your life sucks.” Ai replies casually, making his way to the bar. “Maybe get a better boyfriend.”

* * *

Ranmaru is pissed, but what's new at this point? His manager had set up a sort-of-date with some idol, a poppy girl with a well rounded fan base, in hopes of getting him to chill the fuck out.

Ha!

Good one.

It didn't help that his most recent band endeavour had crashed and burned; it was almost usual, at this point. He’s pretty sure his manager is fed up and desperate to just get Ranmaru to settle down somehow. Ranmaru’s bad attitude was creating a bubble around his seat, and he was comfortable with this; if  _ nobody _ spoke to him all night, he’d be  _ fantastic _ because he’s pretty goddamn fed up with  _ people _ .

Somebody steps up next to him in the bar, taking a seat on the stool. He doesn't even look at Ranmaru as he orders two margaritas, chin resting on his fist with a blank casualness.

“You're not nearly old enough for that.” Ranmaru grunts, side eyeing the kid.

“You're too punk rock to bother with that.” the kid shoots back. “I just  _ look _ young.”

Ranmaru scoffs, and the kid shrugs because it's not like the bartender asked; if he’s here, then it must be that he’s proved he's legal or somebody vouched for him somehow. High socialite bars were infamously bad at vetting the famous-- although Ranmaru can't say he's ever  _ seen _ the kid. He's blindingly pale in both natural color and outfit choice, which is slightly unnerving and very easy to remember.

“It’s part of the aesthetic.” he continues, taking the first margaritas with a small smile and a sip.

“Alright, I can give for aesthetic.” Ranmaru says, and the stranger laughs, soft and musical.

The stranger gives Ranmaru a once over, almost comical in how obviously exaggerated it is. Considering Ranmaru was decked out in stiff red and black, completely opposite to the stranger’s soft clothes and gentle pastels, Ranmaru allows it without protest. They share silver though, the stranger wearing angel wings on a necklace and a climbing vine earring, while Ranmaru’s wearing silver chain link bracelets and a pair of chunky rings.

“It’s important to the life of an idol.” he teases softly, swirling his bright drink.

“Idol life is terrible.”

“I'll cheers to that.”

The stranger tips his glass towards Ranmaru, and Ranmaru clicks his rum and coke to it. The stranger’s phone pings  and when he checks it he takes a long dreg of his drink. The change of angle in the low light makes his cheekbones shimmer unnaturally, and Ranmaru spends enough time around makeup to pin it down. The stranger was seemingly made up to look unnervingly beautiful, strategically put together to be intimidatingly enticing yet unapproachable. The word ethereal comes to mind with ease.

_ Oh _ , Ranmaru thinks as he drinks from his own glass to the sound of the stranger sighing.  _ That sounds like disappointment. _

“Amazing.” he mutters and Ranmaru snorts. “I  _ just _ ordered two.”

A brunet swings by, patting the stranger’s shoulder with a lilting “I'm sorry!”; the stranger taps his nails on the bar as the second margarita makes its appearance.

He slides the fresh drink at Ranmaru.

“A gift, considering my companion just bailed on me and I don't chain drink.” he says. “You look like you'll need it.”

With that, the stranger sits up straighter and crosses his ankles neatly.

“Way to sell it.” Ranmaru grumbles.

“I keep things straight forward.”

* * *

Ai thinks the white haired stranger is interesting; he looks like a total asshole, yes, but he’s no worse than Aine or Camus. The bad attitude is familiar, and since Reiji has jumped ship for the night because of a recording emergency, Ai might as well enjoy the banter.

Yes, he had immediately called Ai out on being 19 and drinking, but it's not the first time Ai sells himself as older. He  _ had _ taken the Aine route throughout high school, he was just better at subtlety. Plus, Ai knew better than to get drunk right now; he was just tired and wired, and a depressant was exactly what he needed for the moment.

“Who even are you?” he snarks, finishing his initial drink. “Never seen you ‘round before.”

Ai’s lips inadvertently twitch up and Ai shakes his head a little.

“It’s on purpose, I assure you. I’m Mikaze Ai, but people mainly know me as Providence.”

The bartender stumbles suddenly when Ai says that, and Ai takes a sip as he looks at the bartender over the rim of his glass. She looks a little shocked, lashes fluttering.

“A fan?” Ai guesses gently, tone lacking the bold edge of surety. The bartender nods.

“I knew you were doing a reveal concert, but I couldn't get off work to go.” she says, smiling sheepishly. “I shouldn't have worried, though!”

“Ineffability brought us here.” Ai says, and he sees her light up in recognition-- it's a fairly popular line from Ai’s debut album, and it’s almost thrilling to have it be so easily recognized.

“I don't have anything I can ask you to sign. . .” she laments.

“Don't you worry,” Ai says charmingly, smiling. “I'll figure something out for you.”

She grins and thanks him, shaking Ai’s hand gratefully before returning to work. Ai lets out a breath.

“Maybe you’re gonna turn into a chain drinker.” the stranger snarks, nudging the margarita back.

“Maybe.” Ai consents. “But why don't you tell me your name?”

Ai thinks he knows who the guy is, but it'll be more interesting to see how he introduces himself.

“Kurosaki Ranmaru.”

“How infamous.” Ai teases, finishing his drink and licking some salt off the rim for good measure. “A pleasure meeting you tonight, then.”

Ranmaru grumbles and Ai turns towards him, deciding to make the best of the situation. Ranmaru  _ was _ infamous, particularly for his rancorous temper; his music was always passionate, sold well, and his live shows were renowned for how fun they were. He had just about  _ nothing _ to do with Ai’s softer, almost tragic style and closed off persona, and it was endlessly intriguing.

“Rock is interesting, but I have to say the most interesting part of it is the way the music lends itself to change.” Ai prompts, and from there it's easy.

* * *

Music was the easiest part of Ranmaru’s life, so their conversation flows well enough. Ai doesn't really seem to react to Ranmaru’s rough edges, only giving dry wit and a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in reply to some of his harsher comments. Ai ends up sipping at the second margarita, as if looking for something to hold; he doesn't jitter but his fingers are never quite still, and Ranmaru finds it funny to point it out throughout their talk. Ai gives him a blank look every time and talks over him with unparalleled calm.

“Nice choker, by the way.” Ai says at one point, eyebrow cocked, and Ranmaru clicks his tongue because maybe the spiked collar was a  _ little _ over the top. “Very in tune with the bar decor.”

Low blue fluorescent lights and straight white counters collude against Ranmaru’s leather jacket and torn jeans, but they don't help Ai’s loose cardigan and vaguely shimmering tee either. They both look out of place, too sharp and too soft, a messy pair.

Eventually Ai gets up, leaving a very nice tip and a signed folded show flyer for the bartender, who gives them a blinding smile and thanks Ai profusely. Ranmaru’s supposed date never did arrive, and it’s not like he’s got anything better to do, so it's easy to decide to leave too. Ai is texting as he walks, avoiding people with a practiced ease.

“You just carry flyers around?” Ranmaru snarks, paying his own bill and following Ai out.

“You just follow strangers around?” Ai snarks right back, pushing his bangs behind his ear as he finds the elevator and calls it up.

“We can't  _ all _ wine and dine to the early hours around here, some of us have to actually work for fame.”

Ai laughs at that, rolling his eyes as he steps inside. He holds the open button until Ranmaru joins him, then hits for the building’s lobby.

“Anyway our styles are definitely not compatible,” Ai says, continuing an earlier thread of conversation Ranmaru had so rudely interrupted. “I don't think you have to hear my music to see as much.”

“Yeah, you don't really seem like the hardcore type.”

It's an understatement; Ai is practically glittering like a faerie in the white light of the elevator, and it's hard to picture him in a rock concert. He’s clever and genre savvy though, and Ranmaru will give him points for not being off put by a wildly different genre.

“I don't think good music is reserved to a genre, though.” Ai says, and Ranmaru snorts to Ai’s seeming shock. “Really?”

“I think most genres are shit money grabs.” Ranmaru informs Ai, and Ai almost frowns.

“I don't think so.” is all he says at first.

“Really, cause pop is formulaic as hell and EDM is just pure shit.”

“Every genre has its own merits. You can't portray the same things in each; pop is good at conveying bubbly joy, and EDM is good for creating exciting environments. Rock is  _ great _ for deep rooted anger, while pop punk feeds into manic melancholy, and grunge is just pure rage often times. You can’t get those emotions as clearly through other genres.”

That was probably the most Ai had said at once all night, and Ranmaru almost laughs at Ai’s flustered look. He hadn't meant to go off, and his fingers tighten around his phone slightly; he’s quick to step into the lobby once the doors open, chin tilted a little higher. Ranmaru  _ does _ laugh at that, following Ai at a more sedate pace.

“Agree to disagree.” Ai says once Ranmaru catches up, Ranmaru opening the door for him. “Ah-- thank you.”

“I don't agree with  _ anything _ , with  _ anyone _ , on principle.” Ranmaru says, and Ai hums his understanding.

The night is cool, the front of the building a sedate grey lined with bushes of bright flowers. The petals burst a vibrant pink, and Ai resists the urge to pluck one to take back to Aine; Aine loved pretty little trinkets, and he was more than willing to press flowers as memorabilia. Instead, Ai leans against the small wall that separates the flowerbeds from the main entrance and relaxes.

It’s surprisingly easy to just keep up dialogue between them; as Ai waits for his car in the dark of night, Ranmaru’s gruff personality keeps him entertained. Ai’s bright mind wrapped up in a thicket of sarcasm keeps Ranmaru engaged in turn, and they create a rhetoric for the night.

Ai’s car arrives, idling on the curb.

“My car is here,” Ai says. “I’d say it’s a pity, but not really because I'm starting to crave.”

“They don't use cheap shit here, so if you've been runnin’ around on an empty stomach you're gonna regret it soon.” Ranmaru replies.

“I already am. I'm craving something disgustingly greasy, since I keep missing out on bar food.” Ai says, and looks vaguely disgusted at himself.

“Try onion rings, the breading helps.”

“I'm sure you know  _ all _ kinds of things about hangover food.” Ai teases as he walks towards his car finally, throwing Ranmaru a look over his shoulder.

“Checkers has never let me down.” Ranmaru says, mockingly solemn, and Ai laughs and shakes his head.

“Maybe I  _ will _ get those onion rings, then.”

“Do I look untrustworthy?”

That gets Ai to laugh with his entire body, and it  _ still _ manages to be reserved; he tilts his head to the side, covering his mouth while his body shivers a little. He manages to not fall against the door, but does clumsily grab for it with his free hand.

“Goddamn rude brat,” Ranmaru says with no heat.

“Thank you for the company  _ and _ advice, creeper.” Ai says, shooting Ranmaru a surprising smile as he opens the door and gets inside.

Ranmaru grunts and waves Ai off, starting the trek towards the parking lot to call a cab and book it.

* * *

Ai brings back a bag of fast food for Aine, who is sitting on the couch in a bundle of blankets.

“Your boyfriend abandoned me for work.” Ai says, tossing the bag at Aine. “So I drank two margaritas topped with high grade liquor made to fucking tranquilize Hollywood as a whole or something.”

“Yeah, he does that--  _ fuck yes, _ onion rings, I love you.” Aine babbles, attacking one of the containers with a grin.

“Wasn't my idea. Met a really interesting person at the bar, you won't believe me when I tell you.”

With that, Ai goes to the hallway down to the left of the apartment, into his room; if he were more tired and less motivated to eat, he’d leave his current clothes on, but he was  _ civilized _ unlike some people (read: Aine and Reiji). By the time he returns in a yoga pants and sweater combination, Aine is midway through his own food while having left Ai’s neatly placed on the coffee table. Settling next to Aine, Ai immediately steals one of his onion rings.

“So, who was this mystery bar goer?” Aine asks through a mouthful of chicken sandwich.

“Kurosaki Ranmaru.”

Aine chokes, and Ai thumps his back a few times before getting back up to grab something to drink. Deciding it was a nice night to be unhealthy, he grabs soda instead of water and resists launching a bottle at Aine out of pure love and pity at his stricken expression.

“And he told you to buy onion rings?!” Aine sputters, gratefully accepting the drink.

“He watched me chain drink two strong-smelling margaritas, he pitied me.”

“How was he?”

Ai pauses, mouth twisting side to side in thought as he carefully combs through their interactions.

“Alright, for me.” he finally decides on saying. “He’s a mean bastard, as much as people say, but he didn't say anything I don't already hear daily between you and Camus, you know? I have enough practice with bad attitudes to look past them. He appreciated my dry humor I think, because he laughed a few times.”

“You're a miracle worker, angel.” Aine says with a laugh, falling back against the couch. “You got probably the angriest man in the universe to give you hangover food advice. Then again, your best friend  _ is _ Camus. . .”

“I'm sure being raised with you has nothing to do with it?”

“ _ Of course not _ !” Aine crows, scandalized.

“ _ Sure _ .”

“Mhm, hey, let's look at some of this dude's music?” Aine diverts, flicking through his phone. “I can't say I listen to him much.”

“Neither do I but I've heard enough on the radio.”

Aine hums and cheers when finds one he wants to watch, casting the video onto the TV with a grin. Ai settles back, slowly eating as he watches. It’s a "gritty reality” sort of video, the world overtaken with swathes of black and grey; the only other color is a deep red that Ranmaru brings whenever he steps into frame, a favorite color since its the same one that had dotted his outfit earlier that night. The ruddish violet of his mismatched eye also stands out, practically glowing against the general dullness.

“He's kinda hot.” Aine says midway through.

“He's really not your type, though.”

“You don't know my type!”

“Your type is the really reassuring homey type, that's why you've been with Reiji for so long.”

“Don’t fucking call me out like this.”

Ai bursts into a fit of giggles, kicking Aine’s leg lightly. Aine pouts and kicks Ai back, letting autoplay take over the TV.

“A-ny-way,” Aine continues, chatting over Ai’s eating. “I obsessively checked the internet all night, and the feedback was really good, so I'm happy that everything went well. You took a  _ lot _ of pictures with people, so if your face isn't plastered everywhere, I'd be a little shocked.”

“And I posted a picture on Instagram,” Ai adds, pointing his burger at Aine. “Because I'm nice to people who couldn't come see me live.”

“Truly a champion for the unfortunate.” Aine says gravely, flipping Ai off.

“It was really nice, performing live like that. I have to get used to it, but it was enjoyable.” Ai says, bulldozing over Aine’s sassing.

“. . . Good. That's really, really good.”

They ate in calm after that, Ai flicking on one of Reiji’s more provocative music videos. Aine makes fun of him the entire time, but Ai has long since gotten familiar with the fondness in his eyes that was so strictly reserved for his boyfriend. Aine and Reiji had been inseparable since high school, and short of a few incidents, they were still connected by the hip; Reiji was a consistent staple of the Kisaragi household through its many phases. He was Ai’s other older brother, even though Ai would never admit to as much. He was also undoubtedly Aine’s other half, so Ai liked him well enough even when he was being a pest.

When they go to bed, there is a soft silence that spread across the dark; everything within the night was good.


	2. it's understood that hollywood sells californication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second chance encounter that exacerbates the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol hey y'all ive decided that fuck the police im gonna do whatever i want now. self indulgent bs ahoy!
> 
> title from [Californication by the Red Hot Chili Peppers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtXiwSCq99Q)

Ranmaru’s phone pings annoyingly until it wakes him up. He doesn't need to look to know who exactly is texting him at 8 in the morning knowing damn well he would rather sleep past midday. His manager has to hate him. In the dark mess of his room, Ranmaru’s phone screen is too bright on its lowest setting and he struggles to read the texts.

[why do I always have to wake up to tabloid crap from you?] the top texts reads, along with having a link to some shithole gossip site. Ignoring the other texts, which are just more complaints, Ranmaru clicks through and wonders what he could've done last night.

“Huh.” Ranmaru grunts out at the picture of him and Ai--  _ Providence _ , a voice cheekily corrects in his head, and it mirrors Ai’s own tone at the bar when it came to his music-- outside of the building chatting.

There’s really nothing suggestive about it; Ai isn't actually very expressive at all, a calm neutral mask on, and Ranmaru is pretty sure he’s got the same snarl he always has on. If he had it in him, he’d congratulate the paparazzi that got the photos because they both look flattering even between movements. As he flicks through the pictures, interspersed with shit writing, he finally hits what easily 90% of the “article” is resting on-- Ai’s full bodied laugh, and Ranmaru half smiling back because the guy is ridiculous.

He finally bothers with reading the blurbs between pictures, sitting up with a yawn.

_ Kurosaki is known for being a grouch, but has he finally met his match in this mysterious figure?, _ is as far as he gets before his manager texts him again.

[who is that, anyway?]

All he responds is, [Providence], and then adds for good measure, [your shitty date never showed up], before turning the volume off on his phone and tossing it back onto the nightstand. He goes straight back to sleep.

* * *

“Ai!” Aine yells, obnoxious at every hour of the day, even at 8 am. Ai can already tell he didn't actually sleep much.

“What?”

“Guess who's fuckin’ PR team just emailed me?”

“Reiji’s, begging you two to stop being so loud and let me sleep in peace?” Ai says as he steps out from his hallway and into the living room, sweeping up a blanket Aine left on the couch and folding it.

“In your dreams, bitch, guess again.”

“Kurosaki’s.”

“Dead on!”

Aine waves his spoon over his shoulder, crunching on his cereal loudly and beckoning Ai towards him. Draping the now-neat blanket over the back of the couch, Ai goes up and looks over Aine’s other shoulder. Aine’s phone shows the email, professional in a way Ai knows Ranmaru is not, even if they only spoke to each other for a few hours.

“They're  _ apologizing _ .” Aine says with a laugh. “If he was a dick or if he somehow got you into trouble in any way, and that they hope you're well.”

“Tell them he was no trouble at all.” Ai replies honestly, resting his temple on top of Aine’s head in thought. “He treated me quite fairly and was good company, and that we hope he's doing well too.”

“Was he really okay?” Aine asks, voice skeptical; they didn't make it a habit to lie to each other, but Ai’s struggle with being emotive sometimes left Aine grasping at straws.

“Yeah. He called me soft a lot but I'm not the one that was wearing leather pants, so I think I won that.”

Aine snorts and starts typing up their reply; he makes sure to do everything in his power to make it seem as sincere as possible as Ai goes to get his own food.

“Now that you did really good the first time, I don't give a shit about the rest of your shows this month.” Aine says, and Ai translates it to ‘ _ you don't have to text me all the time but please keep me updated _ ’ in Aine speak.

“Good, you’re annoying.” Ai shoots back, and Aine translates that to ‘ _ I'll do it but you're still annoying _ ’. “Mm, one thing though.”

“What?”

“Where’s your guitar? I want to learn how to play.”

Aine paused and blinks, giving Ai a confused look. Ai just shrugs and takes a loud bite of his granola bar.

“. . . I'll dig it up,” Aine assures before returning to his phone. “Am I about to witness another sound change?”

“Maybe. I'm just curious for now.”

* * *

“What did you do to the poor kid?” Seiichiro Jinguji laments when Ranmaru opens his door, holding a coffee cup out at him. He slips in without hesitation once Ranmaru accepts it.

“I didn't do shit,” Ranmaru grunts out, still half asleep as he drinks.

“We sent his management an apology email for whatever you did, and they responded positively.” Seiichiro says like it’s an accusation.

“I  _ said _ I didn’t do shit!”

“ _It was no trouble at all!_ _Kurosaki was gracious since Providence did interrupt his time_ ,” Seiichiro reads over Ranmaru’s whining. “ _And we are grateful he allowed Providence to speak to such a well rounded professional such as himself. We welcome Kurosaki back anytime and we again thank him for his time_.”

“He didn't write that.”

“No, his manager did.”

“Yeah, he doesn't talk like that at all.”

With that, Ranmaru makes his way to his kitchen to start on some breakfast, letting Seiichiro run his mouth. This happened every morning the tabloids got their claws into Ranmaru, and while he was pretty much over it, Seiichiro was not. It was his job, after all, to care when Ranmaru didn't, which was a  _ very _ common occurrence.

“Did you traumatize the kid into giving you a good review?” Seiichiro asks.

“Nah. He’s quiet but mean as fuck when you push ‘im, honest to a fault. He probably wouldn't lie to ya.” Ranmaru says.

“Sounds like you two got along.”

“I guess, considering my  _ date _ was a no show. Apparently he got ditched too, and we bonded over how terrible our managers are to us.” Ranmaru snarks, giving Seiichiro the evil eye. “You can stop with those, by the way, we both know whatever you're doin’ isn't gonna damn well work.”

“Listen, Ranmaru,” Seiichiro says, somehow more serious than he usually is; when Ranmaru looks at him, his blue eyes seem tired but determined. “You have to prove to higher management you can be stable. If it’s not with your bands,  _ fine _ , but you have to show them you  _ give a shit _ about something. I'm trying to help you.”

“Setting me up on fuckin’ blind dates isn't gonna work!”

“Then you better figure it out, and figure it out soon.” Seiichiro says with finality, making his way to the door. “You have filming today. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off.”

The door clicks gently, and Ranmaru tries to vent his frustrations into the omelette he’s making.

* * *

Ai’s second show is also great, even if the microphone gave out midway and Ai had a little impromptu karaoke session with his audience until a stagehand fixed it. It’s fine though, because Providence is quick and light hearted and salvaged the situation for his crowd.

Ai goes directly for the fast food this time, deciding that liquoring it up at the apartment was much better. The meetup right after was long, and Ai was happy to meet everyone but that was as far as he was taking it for the night.

There’s a total of two people working at Subway and nobody else is in there. The cashier recognizes Ai as soon as he speaks, and he excitedly takes Ai’s order, and Ai is  _ almost _ smitten with how quietly happy he looks when the door chimes for another customer.

“Uhg.”

“You make it a habit to follow strangers around, Kurosaki?” Ai jabs, barely glancing at him but a smile tweaks the corners of his mouth nonetheless.

“Maybe you're the creepy one here, Mikaze.”

The other employee, a girl with blonde hair and purple streaks, looks faint when she sees Ranmaru, almost tripping over herself to get his order. Ranmaru is looking much more casual than the other night, in dark wash jeans and a vintage T-shirt covered by a worn leather jacket. While Ai is getting ringed up (a sandwich and two little containers of soup for Aine, who had complained that the grease ruined his stomach at midnight but was mysteriously hungry at breakfast, the bastard), the girl is almost buzzing out of her skin, breathless and smiling. Ranmaru smirks at her. Ai rolls his eyes and asks for water, and Ranmaru clicks his tongue.

“Why are you going to buy  _ water _ while you're out?” Ranmaru chides.

“Because I don't want to rot my stomach.” Ai shoots back.

“I forgot you're a boring square,” Ranmaru says, pointing the cashier at the largest cup size available. “Get him one of those.”

“Hey hey,  _ you're _ not paying!”

“Fine, give  _ me _ two of those then.”

“We’re  _ both _ going to rot our stomach’s out then.”

“I'm good company.”

“Pah,” Ai says, waving off Ranmaru moodily as he takes his bottle and moves to set his bagged food onto a table. He steals one of Ranmaru’s cups, turning to fill it with something not completely awful, hopefully. “I can't believe I gave your PR a sparkling review. I regret it now.”

“You know why they sent you that email?” Ranmaru asks over his shoulder, watching as Ai fills his cup with pink lemonade.

“No, not really. I was worried but management couldn't find anything to worry about.”

Ai puts a top on it and pokes a straw through, wandering back to Ranmaru’s side as he sips. The girl behind the counter looks like she's ready to absolutely explode.

“Can-- can we take a picture with you guys?” she asks once Ranmaru is done paying.

“Of course,” Ai says immediately, smiling at the male employee who flusters. “I’m not very photogenic right now, if you’ll forgive it.”

“Don't worry, I'll just block your face out.” Ranmaru says, grin razor sharp, and Ai let's his deadpan tell all.

They all end up on the customer side of the counter, the girl handing Ranmaru her phone hesitantly so that he could get them all in. He tosses his arm around her, and she almost combusts with joy; Ai and his fan are a little more reserved, Ai pressing the tip of his straw against his smile, and the guy throwing up a peace sign.

“Are you done being a terror, Kurosaki?” Ai says, sitting down and crossing his legs primly as Ranmaru fills his cup.

“I'll dump this over your head.”

“And ruin my night? How dastardly.”

The deep brown of Pepsi would 100% ruin Ai’s soft white getup, and they both knew it; Ranmaru just settles across from Ai without anymore threats and they eat in peace for a few minutes as Ai flicks through his phone. Ai presses himself against the wall of the booth, casually making himself small.

(The girl had posted the picture to her twitter and tagged all three of them, and Ai retweets it with a sparkling heart because he’s cute like that.)

“PR emailed you because some gossip site got their claws into some pictures of us talking.” Ranmaru says once he’s done with his fill. Ai had more picked at his sandwich, getting about midway through before sticking to his lemonade; eating in front of people was just. . . too  _ weird _ . “They wanted to make sure I hadn't tarnished your reputation or somethin’.”

“Really? Who did?” Ai asks, looking at Ranmaru curiously. “They try to pin a lot of relationships on me, actually; they think I'm dating either Camus, or Reiji, even though I keep saying I'm single.”

Ai scrunches his nose for a second.

“ _ Reiji _ . Just, no.”

“Kotobuki?” Ranmaru asks, pulling up the trash “article” on his phone and then sliding it towards Ai.

“Yeah. He’s an old friend.” Ai says, flicking through. “He was actually the one who bailed on me last night. Know him?”

“You could say that.”

Ai laughs at Ranmaru’s tone. Reiji could be a  _ lot _ for most people, kind to a fault but overwhelming in his enthusiasm; Ai had practically grown up with him, though, and sat mostly desensitized to his nonsense and manipulation.

“This writing is  _ colorful _ .” he says instead. “They seem a little obsessed with you getting a partner.”

“Every tabloid in the industry seems to think I leave an infinite trail of broken hearts no matter where I go.”

“Maybe it’s that bad boy attitude,” Ai says seriously, eyes glittering with humor once more. “Your hypothetical broken heart trail is all because of those leather jackets, I tell you.”

“The fact that you're probably right infuriates me to no end.” Ranmaru mutters tiredly.

Ai slides his phone back, and pokes his forehead gently. Ranmaru waves him off, but seems to perk up at the provocation.

“That picture isn't going to help.” Ai says softly, pocketing his own phone to prop his head up on his fist instead. He chews on his straw thoughtfully.

“It’s probably worse for your rep.”

“I have a very solid social media presence, actually, and it’ll take more than a nonexistent relationship to topple what I've built. You're actually only half as bad as you look.”

With that, Ai gets up and puts his food back into his bag.

“Anyway,” he continues. “Who cares what they say? I make music, people who like it like it, and if they don't they go on their way. Why worry about anything else?”

Ranmaru thought the same, but his talk with Seiichiro was starting to actually  _ weigh _ on him. This kind of stuff was starting to  _ matter. _

If Ai notices Ranmaru’s conflict, he kindly keeps quiet.

“Thank you for the lemonade.” Ai says, taking a long sip as if his lips weren't already a faded sugary pink on the inside from how much he’s drunk. “Is drinking going to be the theme for us?”

“Next time make it liquor.” Ranmaru grumbles, and Ai laughs as he gets a text.

“And my ride is here.” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Try and have a good night, will you, Kurosaki? Go to a club or something if you're so compelled.”

Ranmaru follows Ai out again, this time tossing a set of keys up into the air rhythmically. Ai rolls his eyes.

“ _ Habits _ .” he chides as he steps out, eyes immediately zoning in on a nice looking motorcycle. “I'm going to leave tonight assuming that's yours, and lifting your hypothetical break up tally by 10.”

“You're gonna start reporting to those trash sites?”

“But then they'll think you're cheating on me.” Ai demures, getting into an idling black car.

“Fuck off!”

“Gladly.”

Their twin humors gives them away, and Ai leaves Ranmaru as he gets onto his bike. Ranmaru books it home, and when he does he feels too restless to go to bed for once. Instead, he goes to his laptop and decides to look up Providence, just to see what kind of music the kid actually produced.

* * *

Ai completely forgets to liquor it up when he gets home, the taste of lemonade still fresh in his mouth.

* * *

 

“Why is the internet telling me you're in love with Kurosaki.” Aine asks at three am, shaking Ai awake.

“Just because I don't have a show tonight doesn't mean you can just wake me up.” Ai slurs, scooting away from Aine and turning around. “Check twitter.”

Aine does.

“Oh. Oh Ai this is kinda cute.” Aine admits.

“Gossip site said we were dating on Saturday,” Ai mumbles tiredly. “Saw him at Subway, cashier was a fan, couldn't say no.”

“Course not but it's kinda funny.”

“Sleep, Aine.”

“Right, right, sorry, ‘night.”

“Good night Aine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: [Isa drew the Subway scene <3!!!](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/post/175473693803/dnshyber-hi-by-providence-by-selenolatries-is)
> 
> again im doing lo que me da la fucking gana this time around and canon can Perish
> 
> a lot of u already know this already but [i have a tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) where i complain a lot and talk abt utapri sometimes, come chitchat w me if you'd like


	3. vanilla chocolate honey with a cherry on top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cherry on top brings everything to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what [Red Velvet's Ice Cream Cake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glXgSSOKlls) is saying but cute girls singing about ice cream and kisses is like right up my alley and the line I used in the title helped me write the description so? cute girls y'all. i'd die for 'em.

It takes a good two weeks for Ai and Ranmaru to cross paths again. The time in between proves interesting, though; Ai follows him on twitter out of a need to mock all of his stupid tweets, just like he does with Reiji, and Ranmaru follows back.

Ai decides to practice guitar on his first full faced live stream, asking twitter if they wanted to practice with him. Of course, it’s a resounding yes, so there he sat in his room, chat blowing up with questions as others more talented with guitars replied.

Aine’s guitar is gently beat up, covered with stickers that had steadily thickened over the years; there’s two of his own from touring, a good number of Reiji’s tours, and Kei and Hibiki’s additions are some obvious curses and sarcastic phrases. The rest consist of stickers from travel; Ai brought some, their uncle other’s, and every artist that had ever gotten close to Aine had brought him any stickers they could find after finding out about his love for them. Aine’s guitar had always been old, and he had never really used it, but Ai had brought it back to form with some determination.

Ranmaru tweets at Ai midstream.

“Hey, try this on for size.” the tweet says, an image attached of a score. When Ai plays it, tentative and slow, he realizes quickly that it’s one of Ranmaru’s songs.

“Wow,” Ai mutters, looking into his camera. “I can't believe he managed to promo himself on  _ my _ stream.”

Ai wasn't considered the smart one for nothing, though; he quickly finds a ridiculous screenshot of Ranmaru’s face from a music video, zooms it in, and composes a devious tweet that says [#twitterbeefanyone ;)] with the picture attached. He sends it out, and the live stream chat dies for a few minutes as twitter blows up with memes of Ranmaru’s face directed at them both.

Ranmaru sends him a private message later that night, after the live stream is over.

[You're too good at this social media thing,] it says, and Ai can imagine his cranky tone easily.

[Don't play games with winners, Kurosaki] Ai shoots back because he’s nothing if not confident about this after years of being an online-only presence.

Ai manages to perfect the song on the guitar after a week though, and he streams as he does a cover of it live, because Ai Mikaze was  _ not _ a quitter. He was a blunt, anxious, disastrous shadow but  _ he was not a quitter. _ Ai cuts out that part of the live stream and posts it to twitter, promising to make a more polished version soon for the internet’s viewing pleasure.

[As long as Kurosaki approves though, of course.] Ai tweets, tagging Ranmaru.

[I think I'm contractually obligated to approve covers from higher beings,] he replies, attaching a gif of Ai laughing during a live stream. Ai replies with a gif of Ranmaru winking at the camera, knowing how to be smooth on the internet when he was actually laughing stupidly.

The rumor mill works its grind, and Ai sits unmoved as he always has. Next the internet would latch onto someone else as it often did, putting Ai with one of the idols he had sung with or one of his few friends. They had pinned Reiji on him for a  _ long _ time, as if Reiji hadn't kissed Aine on stage during a joint show, taking the whole world by surprise but also by storm.

That had been an  _ interesting _ time.

But then, Tuesday’s show rolls around and the most  _ interesting _ part of Ai’s life turns into the halo of white hair half hiding in a corner of the crowd. His shows are still small, contained mainly just to people who know his music and very few curious minds, so it’s hard to hide. Ai is quick, and catches Ranmaru’s eye as he walks on stage, smiling and singing, but he raises a single eyebrow at him in a jab before turning to the general audience.

“I know we have a guest roaming around tonight,” Ai says, and the crowd cheers and shifts. “So let's try to make this  _ really _ good.”

The good thing, possibly the  _ best _ thing, about Ai’s audience is that they all understand Ai’s little quirks; they know that Ai can't keep his hands still, and that he jokes emotionlessly, and that he taps a rhythm no matter what he’s doing. They think it's funny, or charming, or  _ whatever _ , but they accept him when he says, “How many of you guys want to see me make fun of Kurosaki live?” with a deafening cheer.

The stage crew digs up a guitar, like the saints they are, and Ai sits down and gives it a test run. Then he starts play, the same song from twitter, and the crowd is restless.

Ai sings, the anger of the original melting into a hot melancholy instead, because Ai was not an angry person, but he could be seen as a paragon of  _ melancholy _ . His voice wasn't meant for growling and showing teeth, no, only made to give life to the awful things curled in the pit of his stomach and depths of his heart, and those things were not  _ fires _ but a  _ drowning _ in a silent storm.

This was the peace he had made with the world. Inside  _ and _ out.

His guitar skills are okay, not as good as when he sits at his synthesizer, but it seems like everyone has agreed that it’s good enough. Of course, Ai is going to just keep getting better, but he appreciates his audience.

They love Providence, and Ai has never been more grateful.

* * *

Ranmaru has no interest in Providence, not the way Ai seems to assume he does. It’s easy to tell that Providence is a wonderfully elaborate mask Ai happily wears, and that’s just a dozen levels of  _ weird _ to Ranmaru because it’s not like Ai seemed to lack motivation or charisma. He just seemed opposed to being  _ genuine _ .

Ai seems pleasantly tired by the end of the night though, the kind of tired that can go straight into a bed and sleep through the night peacefully, but he makes it a point to find Ranmaru after he’s wrapped up.

“What a surprise seeing you here,” Ai says, not quite smiling. “I do hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“I didn't think you could manage stage presence.” Ranmaru says, hands in his pockets.

“I can do a lot of things people would never think me as capable of doing.” Ai shoots back, trying to tame his bangs as he talks; they're frizzed out, settling more into his eyes, and he’s very slowly getting infuriated. “The again, most people don't know me.”

“They won't if you keep faking it up on stage.”

“Maybe that's what I want,” Ai says with an eye roll. “To be a surprise.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You're a little too bullheaded to be lecturing me, I think.”

And that was that; Ai let his hair loose to pick it all up neatly, Ranmaru snorted, and they continued on their merry way.

“I came tonight because my manager is insufferable but he seems to like you, so it gets him off’a me for a while.” Ranmaru says.

“I give you good publicity,” Ai says with a lilt to his voice even though his face stays the same. “It's not every day a supposed angel takes to you, you know.”

Ranmaru barks out a harsh laugh, shaking his head.

“Is that what they really call ya?” Ranmaru barbs. “I thought that was a joke.”

“Even my family does.” Ai admits. “I can't break them from the habit.”

Ai lazily pushes one hand up his sleeve and scratches the skin of his forearm, tracing over thin and faint scar tissue with practiced ease, another habit he had yet to break but in himself; it's sort of humid outside, sticky on his skin, and Ai huffs. It was no wonder his hair was a mess. There's an empty ice cream shop across the street that catches Ai’s attention, and  _ fuck _ if performing wasn't ruining his diet because he's suddenly craving vanilla ice cream piled high with brownie bits and peanut butter M&M’s. Ranmaru notices, and laughs even harder.

“Are you always hungry?” Ranmaru teases, and Ai flinches when his nails catch a little  _ too _ hard against his skin. “The night is young, let's get goin’.”

Ranmaru throws an arm over Ai’s shoulders and throws off his balance, forcing Ai to stop scratching. He laughs quietly, covering his face.

“I'm gonna get fat though, and then how will you love me, Straw Media Boyfriend?” Ai jokes, tapping the corners of his eyes with a small smile. “You're going to get my makeup on your shirt.”

“Hot.” Ranmaru deadpans, and Ai’s composure cracks  _ again _ with another bout of laughter. “Nothing could possibly be hotter than my Straw Media Boyfriend smearing gloss on my shoulder. I think that’s how bonding works.”

“Sto- _ op _ !” Ai whines as Ranmaru guides him down the street. “You can't tempt me with ice cream, it's, like, my weakness.”

Late night ice cream was Ai’s little guilty pleasure; he'd done it with his mother when she was here, and then with his uncle and Aine when she was gone. The ice cream shop is bright and smells like freshly baked cookies, and Ai has never been more grateful that he attracts all the crazies than right then. Ranmaru side eyes him when he absolutely  _ piles _ his ice cream with things he's craving.

“How can you eat so much sugar?”

“It’s what keeps me sweet.”

“It’s what’ll give you diabetes,” Ranmaru argues as Ai pays for his treats, and Ai ignores him with a happy hum. “There’s just--  _ so much in there _ , what the hell?”

“Hey hey, at least I got vanilla.”

With that, Ai grabs the spoon the cashier offers, and digs in; the first bite, a spoonful of ice cream, brownie, M&M’s, and a drizzle of chocolate shell, is bliss to Ai’s frazzled nerves. He makes a probably-too-indecent noise if Ranmaru’s look is anything to go by, but Ai doesn't care, rocking back on his heels with a pleased look.

For once, decorum could go eat it, same way Ai was gonna eat this ice cream; wholly and happily.

“I think you're just jealous of all the attention my ice cream is getting,” Ai says, serious despite his playfully tilted lips. “Don’t worry Ran, this’ll run out eventually.”

“Hah. Can't lose my place.”

The cashier is on his phone the moment they drift away to sit, and Ai casually hides his expression into his cup. He doesn't let himself think about his childishness in the moment, instead indulging in full bodied teasing with Ranmaru. It's obvious Ranmaru notices but he seems relaxed enough to indulge Ai’s little mood; Ai acting a little more his age was almost charming.

“Your guitar playing is getting better.” Ranmaru says, privately marvelling at how  _ neatly _ Ai was managing to eat huge bites of ice cream.

“Could be a lot better, though.” Ai notes, picking out a particularly big chunk of brownie with his spoon. “I'm better with a synth.”

“And I'm better with a bass.”

Ai purrs around his bite of brownie, thoughtful despite the noise.

“Bass resonates in your chest when you hear it,” Ai says slowly. “And that is what I appreciate the most about your style of music. The resonance.”

“You listen to my stuff?” he asks, gruff to not reveal his shock.

“The radio loves you, but I  _ do _ listen more now.”

They delve back into talking about music, and between Ai’s ridiculous noises and Ranmaru’s nonchalance, its good. Ai notices a camera flash out the window eventually, and huffs a soft sigh.

“My manager has gotten dozens of emails about us,” Ai says, trying to suppress a mischievous smile. “If only they knew how ridiculous my manager actually is.”

Like  _ Aine _ of all people was going to kick up dirt about gay rumors. Ai’s music being suspiciously non gendered did not help.

“Yeah, my manager is  _ moved _ .” Ranmaru sneers.

“He sends me emails every single time, you must be quite the troublemaker.”

“An understatement.”

Ai smiles at Ranmaru, slight and kind.

“You’ve proved no trouble to me,” Ai assures, fishing out the rest of his ice cream. “Not any kind of trouble I'm not already used to, at least. So please do tell your manager that while having an open line is wonderful, I'd appreciate if he’d stop emailing me constantly and being weird; my manager is about to lose it on him.”

* * *

Seiichiro Jinguji is floored that Ai wants him to fuck off, and Ranmaru is in  _ hysterics _ at his shocked expression.

But it's not like Seiichiro Jinguji has ever  _ listened _ to Ranmaru, and that’s why Ranmaru walks into Seiichiro’s office one morning to find Aine Kisaragi looking impatient, Ai tiredly sprawled in a seat. Aine is immediately striking, shoulders squared and arms intimidating on his hips. His silhouette is lit up by his light blue sweater, beautiful and bright, like a star on the brink of going supernova.

“Aine please--”

“I didn't retire for this dude to email me daily about shit I had to fight for, thank you very much,” Aine sasses, turning to look at Ranmaru. His eyes are bright and  _ on fire _ . “ _ You _ .”

Ranmaru shuts the door slowly, trying to not be intimidated by an idol juggernaut looking at him with so much  _ feeling _ .

“ _ Aine _ !” Ai whines, leg jittering.

“Angel just let me finish this for you,” he says, tone affectionate even though it's laced with anger.

“ _ You are not about to fistfight Ranmaru in a corporate office! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ice cream date !!! ice cream date ;w; im lov ice cream dates so i wrote one
> 
> [i have a tumblr! come say hi if you want](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	4. I'd like some desperate measures, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiji Kotobuki proves to be the exact force needed to rock the boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs, quick notice: im dumb and i know updating weekly burns me out no matter how much backlog i have SO im going to go to the old cat schedule and update every two weeks after this.
> 
> the title for this chapter is plucked from one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite albums from one of my favorite bands: [Desperate Measures by Mariana's Trench](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bC1oMO4mNNw)

Ai looks tired, a deep, soul bound exhaustion as he stands and forcibly turns Aine back towards Seiichiro. They’re casually plastered together, a familiar closeness; Ai pushes a bit of Aine’s hair back behind his ear soothingly before stepping away.

“Now you finish with him,” Ai says placatingly. “And I'll speak to Kurosaki. Do what you do best, okay?”

Aine collects himself for a moment, taking Ai’s had and squeezing it warmly. Ranmaru is trying to have an entire conversation with just his eyebrows with Seiichiro over Aine’s shoulder; mostly it consists of “ _ what the fuck _ ” and “ _ why didn't you tell me Aine fucking Kisaragi was Ai’s manager!” _ Seiichiro is tilting his head just right to convey, “ _ I didn't know but I'm doing my best here _ !”

“So Jinguji,” Aine says, voice flat and professional and Ranmaru feels a genuine kind of fear strike his heart. “We need to have a chat.”

“Kurosaki,” Ai says calmly as Aine sits down across from Seiichiro. “He’s not mad at you so you can come over here, you know.”

“I’m just a little shocked here.” Ranmaru confesses as he steps further into the office.

“Yeah,” Ai says with laughter in his voice. “Most people don't know Aine is my manager, and that's on purpose. He’s also my cousin but that’s probably easier to see.”

And it is; their hair and eyes and cheekbones all mirror each other as much as they can, some differences cropping up between their eye shapes, mouth, nose. The sharp lines in Aine’s face are softer in Ai’s, giving him an all around kinder appearance than the face watching Seiichiro like a hawk.

“So what did Jinguji here do?” Ranmaru pokes.

“You don't know?” Aine asks incredulously.

“I  _ told _ you he didn't know,” Ai interjects, rolling his eyes. “Why call me the smart one if you never listen?”

“I can't believe Shining has just gotten worse since I left,” Aine bemoans, rubbing his forehead. “Remind yourself to thank me for the contract I got you?”

“I will.”

The look Ai gives Ranmaru clearly states, “I have to do this all the time”, and Ranmaru snorts. Ai’s nonchalance rubs off on him enough to convince him to settle on the other chair in front of Seiichiro’s desk, resting his chin on his fist casually.

“So what did you do to set them off?” Ranmaru asks.

“Don't turn my words against me.” Seiichiro answers stiffly. “I just suggested that maybe you and Mikaze should have the chance to further familiarize yourselves.”

Ranmaru looks at Seiichiro for a beat, eyes searching.

“You want us to date,” Ranmaru finally says, leaning into his seat. “For the publicity, of course.”

“Of course.” Aine says dryly, eyes narrowed.

“Fucking bullshit.” Ranmaru posits, and he gets an approving hum from Aine.

“The situation posed was interesting,” Ai says, and Aine’s head _very_ _slowly_ turns to Ai, standing between their chairs. “You were correct in some of your observations. Both of us have relatively unstable statuses due to our different circumstances.”

“ _ Ai _ .” Aine says warningly, and Ai ignores him.

“My lack of proper standing without Aine’s public backing, which I won't have,  _ is _ a problem but it’s nothing I can't resolve by myself. But  _ you _ need  _ my _ work stability,” and something lights in Ai’s face, a clever curiosity behind his eyes. “So the real question is, what can you  _ really _ offer me?”

Aine looks like he wants to throttle Ai with all his might, but Ai seems unswayed. Ranmaru is briefly reminded of a particularly stubborn goat, because for all of Ai’s previous passivity, he seems engaged now, willing to do god-knows-what to get god-knows-what.

“There's nothing  _ you _ can give me, but  _ he _ can.” Ai continues, turning his gaze to Ranmaru.

“I don't like that look, punk.” Ranmaru mutters, more amused than angry for the moment. “I didn’t ask for this mess.”

“But I’d be  _ honored _ ,” and the word drips with thinly veiled humor that makes Ranmaru’s hackles rise and his throat tighten on a laugh simultaneously. “If you'd help me network. You have a lot of friends.”

“And a lotta enemies.”

“Maybe you just need someone to turn the tide for you.”

“Nah.”

And Ai smiles, a fluttery thing that stays amused, and Ranmaru returns it with a little venom, and it's good. Ai bows to Seiichiro smoothly, hair curtaining his expression from Ranmaru once more.

“It seems everything has been settled then, Jinguji. A pleasure meeting you in person.” Ai straightens up. “I'll go get us food while you wrap up, Aine.”

“ _ Oh angel _ ,” Aine breathes out in annoyance.

“Ranmaru, you need this.” Seiichiro states plainly.

“Even if I do, lying isn’t going to fix it!”

_ Not everyone can lie like I do _ , Ai thinks, and he knows in the moment that Aine is thinking the same thing.  _ Let it never be said we aren't good actors. _

“Everything Ranmaru does is very genuine.” Ai praises quietly. “Thing’s would only work out if he really felt anything. So I think your best option right now is to let Ranmaru enjoy what friendships he wishes to follow through with, without interfering. Those might prove more fruitful than any fabrications.

“Of course,” he continues, waving his hand around idly as he makes his way to the door. “It is not my place to tell you how to do your job. Would you like something to drink? It is no trouble for me to bring you something.”

“Take me with you before I get stuck in a fight of wills,” Ranmaru quips lazily and Ai laughs, ever quiet and shy as if he hadn't just played Seiichiro into his hands.

“Only if you pay your part.”

“Can't even treat me when you were planning on being my Straw Media Boyfriend!”

Ai laughs again, only a little louder, and walks out. Ranmaru stretches and stands.

“Good luck Seii.” he says, and promptly follows Ai.

“They've got undeniable chemistry.” Seiichiro says after a beat. Aine’s unnerving eyes land on him again.

“If you think that’ll move me, you're wrong,” Aine replies. “But yes, they do look like they'll make good friends. But listen Seiichiro, if you cause me trouble, I'll make you regret messing around with me. I'll make you wish you had gone to work at a farm in the ass crack of the country. And I'll make sure you get there, too.”

Seiichiro clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose awkwardly. Working at Shining Agency was an absolute circus of a job; Shining Saotome, the boss of all bosses, was a freakshow ringleader who had managed to anger some of his more important constituents over the years. Aine was well loved, even after his  _ very _ abrupt and public coming out and his sudden departure from the limelight all together. A blow from him could always hurt Shining, no matter what.

“Kotobuki--”

“Reiji is a brilliant, talented, kind man and any agency would graciously and gladly take him in.” Aine says sharply. “I don't fear for my boyfriend, though. He’s pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes in this building, hasn't he? Ji can fend for himself quite well.”

“--I understand, but he still holds a fondness for this place. Be considerate.”

“Mmm-- no.”

* * *

Reiji Kotobuki is pure whirlwind in human form, and he sweeps by Ai and Ranmaru like a force of nature.

“Ai-Ai!” he yells, tossing all his weight into hugging Ai; Ai manages to steel himself in time for once, trying to keep his balance. “What are you doing here? And with Ran-Ran no less!”

“Stop calling me that.” Ranmaru growls out.

“Good morning Reiji.” Ai says, gently patting Reiji’s arm. “Are you here for a particular reason?”

“Aine!”

“Of course. You have a sixth sense for him. He’s with Jinguji, if you'd like to interrupt.”

“You know me so well angel.”

With that, Reiji waves and jogs off, bubbling with renewed energy. Ai sighs, tucking his hair behind his ear tiredly.

“So I know a hole in the wall café nearby if you wanna stop by.” Ranmaru offers.

“Thank God.” Ai mutters, lifting the violet hood of his jacket over his head. “I'm  _ very _ tired.”

* * *

Seiichiro thinks Reiji Kotobuki is an angel and a devil all wrapped into one. He arrives. He sits next to Aine with a cheery greeting. He hears the situation. He whispers a total of maybe 5 words into Aine’s ear, and then Aine is thoughtfully jittering his foot.

“That’s a really good point.” Aine says, tapping his lip. “But in the end, it's not up to me. You know I can't control Ai anymore than I can control the weather.”

“ _ Ai _ isn't the problem though,” Reiji replies, thoughtful. “It’s Ranmaru. I guess we'll have to find our way to him.”

“And what steak do you have in this, exactly, Kotobuki?” Seiichiro asks smoothly.

“Eh? Oh, nothing!” Reiji says cheerfully, reaching out to take Aine’s hand. “Just trying to make things easy on Aine is all!”

Aine snorts at that, quickly covering his mouth with his free hand as he looks away from them. Reiji pouts, squeezing Aine’s hand petulantly, and Seiichiro knows a conversation when he sees one, but he can't quite pin down what’s being said.

“You'll have to forgive me for doubting you.”

“You’re forgiven.” Aine says between his fingers. “Anyway, we'll be in touch, Jinguji. Don't bother your kid too much, yeah?”

Aine stands, pulling Reiji along with him. He pauses as Seiichiro politely stands and offers his hand.

“How is Ren, by the way?” Aine asks, head tilting to the side. “I’m glad he's making music with a group now, they're  _ great, _ but I still worry about him sometimes.”

Seiichiro blinks, surprised. Reiji hums.

“You know Ren?” Reiji asks curiously.

“He was interning here for some time while I was here, and he and I got along. I think maybe he idolized me a little bit, but he plays online with Ai now so I'm more human.” and Aine bites his lip, shaking Seiichiro’s still outstretched hand. “But you know how things are, people get busy and I don't get much of a chance to talk to him.”

“He’s. . . He’s good,” Seiichiro finally says. “He’s much better in a group than being solo.”

“That’s great. Say hi to him for me if you get the chance.”

Aine goes to leave, and Reiji waves as he bounces out behind him, chattering up a storm. Aine chatters back, lower but more relaxed than how he came in, and Seiichiro just watches them until the door shuts. He hadn't realized Ren had worked so closely with Aine when he had been an intern at Shining Agency, to the point that he had apparently introduced him to Ai and they had become friendly. His own brother had been connected to one of the most mysterious internet-based artist’s in recent years, which meant he was also connected to one of the most infamous idol power couples within the agency, and Seiichiro didn't even  _ know _ about it.

Ranmaru returns to Seiichiro’s office eventually, shaking a pale take out cup at him.

“This is from Ai. He insisted on getting you some bubble tea and I really can't fathom why people think it's so great but he seems to like it, so?” Ranmaru says, dropping it on Seiichiro’s desk before sprawling out in a seat. “You okay?”

“I'm fine. Thank you for the. . . tea.” Seiichiro says after a moment, hesitantly taking the cup. “Aine Kisaragi is as fascinating as the media makes him out to be.”

“Weren't you here when he was an idol?”

“I was, but I was also new. They put me to work with lower profile idols, and Aine had most of higher management in a frenzy so I was left out. But. . . but it turns out Ren worked with him at some point.”

“The squirt?” Ranmaru scoffs out, rolling his eyes. “What a joke.”

“Aine said he had.” Seiichiro confirms, leaning back in his chair. “I didn't know.”

“Well, now you do. Maybe Aine imparted you with some knowledge to make you less hairbrained about everything.”

“Maybe Providence provided you with a worthwhile will to be decent for once, but that's too much to ask of even an angel.”

“ _ Dickhead. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reiji appears for two (2) seconds at the end of the chapter but I still get to put him in the description bc es un diablito. lo amo. also this chapter is filled with 100% horseshit but i dont care
> 
> [im almost always on my writing blog if y'all wanna chat, shoot an ask my way if ya wanna](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	5. pick a personality for free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forcing your own hand when you really don't have to seems to be Ranmaru's fatal flaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt bleh today so early chapter post
> 
> Chapter title from [Valley of Dolls by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQdyIyusRV0) which is good to keep in mind for this story

Ai throwing himself into Camus’s arms is probably stupid but Camus hugs him placatingly and so it's all okay. It’s almost like Camus is expecting the outburst when he knocks on Ai’s apartment door, because when Ai does ultimately open up and knock him a few feet back into the hallway, Camus supports his weight diligently.

“You still weigh more than looks right.” Camus says, callous as ever, as he tries to waddle them back inside. Ai tightens his legs from where they're wrapped around Camus’s middle obnoxiously.

“You're still insufferable and I missed you.” Ai replies. “You left me alone with Aine and Reiji!”

“I did, and you deserve to suffer next to them. It was nice going home and not dealing with you lot.”

“Take me next time.”

“You texted me the  _ entire _ time.”

“I  _ still _ missed you.” Ai said honestly, finally letting go of his vice grip on Camus and getting on his own feet. When they get inside, and Ai turns to shut and lock his door, Camus ruffles his hair fondly and Ai laughs and swats him away.

“Your hair is an unruly mess when it's loose.” Camus accuses, as if the action were anything short of affectionate.

“Stop being a jerk and tell me about Permafrost.” Ai insists, ushering Camus further into the living room. “I'll make tea. How was it?”

“Very pleasant.” Camus says simply, and Ai shakes his head.

“Is that it?”

“Of  _ course _ not.”

Ai makes Camus his disgustingly sugary tea, making his own more milky, and finds a whole pack of Jaffa cakes. He launches the cakes at Camus with no shame before bringing the tea over.

“Sugar is  _ not _ commonly used in Permafrost.” Camus laments, opening the pack.

“The fact you're still alive after that tells me that you really  _ do _ love your country.” Ai says, passing a mug over. “Let me placate you like a good friend.”

“I don't think we do good friends.”

Ai lets out a breath and clicks his mug against Camus’s in solidarity. They sit together on Ai’s couch for a good hour, and Ai lets Camus sweep him into believing the beauty of a country he might never see; he asks more than enough annoying questions to goad Camus into talking more, but soon his phone is ringing with an alarm. Sighing, Ai digs it out of his pocket and frowns.

“The thing I don't like about going public,” Ai decides as he puts his mug on the coffee table. “Is having to physically go to interviews.”

“Mhm. Somehow I knew that would be your least favorite part of it.” Camus says. “How did your public debut go?”

“Good. Made an acquaintance.” Ai says simply, picking up his and Camus’s mugs and trotting off into the kitchen.

“. . . An acquaintance?” Camus prompts.

“Mhm.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“You won't like my answer.” Ai warns.

Camus looks a little confused, and he follows Ai after a moment, now filled with a dreadful curiosity.

“What did you do?”

“I spoke to Ranmaru Kurosaki.” Ai is washing out the mugs with a calm casualness befitting the situation, which is what really grates on Camus in the end. “He's not as bad as you described him.”

“ _ He's a troglodyte. _ ” Camus hisses.

“He’s not a troglodyte.”

“He's uncultured, rude, and  _ definitely _ a troglodyte!”

“And  _ you _ are dramatic, as always. He’s rude, but he's not an absolute idiot, so he's markedly better than you described him. You're rude, Aine is rude,  _ I _ am rude; in fact, I think the only people in my life that aren't rude are Reiji and Ren.” Ai pauses at that, blinking rapidly. “Those two really  _ are _ the outliers of my life.”

“Ai.”

“And the internet thinks we're secretly dating.” Ai continues, shaking his head. “Apparently everyone is secretly dating him.”

“ _ What?! _ ”

“Yeah, I know, how can you just list off so many improbable pairings?” Ai asks, genuinely curious as he places the mugs to dry. “But it's kind of funny, because his management wants us to date. I don't really care either way, although it'd be undoubtedly helpful to attach myself to a bigger name. Then again, it really helps his relationship with higher management  _ more _ \--”

“I cannot understand how calm you are at the prospect of being with someone so insufferable.” Camus interrupts, voice edging on shocked, and Ai turns to give him a  _ Look _ .

“I don't know why it  _ bothers _ you.” Ai shoots back, leaning against the edge of the sink; water seeps through his shirt immediately but he stays still. “I can't say I'm much of a  _ romantic _ . I doubt I'm even capable of fostering a romantic relationship at this point, so it doesn’t bother me to fabricate it. If it works, then it works, but it isn't even  _ happening. _ ”

The cool water creeps up and sticks to Ai’s skin with determination.

“You're thinking too much about something that isn't happening.” Ai says firmly. “But I  _ do _ have to get ready, and we  _ will _ finish this conversation. I promise.”

“ _ Fine. _ ” Camus relents, if only because Ai’s work was looming over them and ruining the argumentative atmosphere.

“It was good to see you.” Ai says sincerely, eyes going a little soft. “I  _ did _ miss you.”

“Of course you did.” Camus said, which meant  _ I missed you too, _ and that was as close as they ever got to emotional sincerity.

“Now get out.” Ai says, moving towards Camus. “I have  _ interviews _ to do.”

“Have fun with those.”

“Hah.”

The wet patch stubbornly clings to the skin of his back. It’s freezing.

* * *

“You know, some are stating you share quite a few similarities to Aine Kisaragi. Do you have anything to say to that?” the interviewer asks.

Ai smiles. It is innocent, and it is sharp, and it is not truly amused in any way.

“It is in your best interests,” Ai says softly. “To not bother Kisaragi any more than the media already has. I am sure he's had quite enough and I don't appreciate it being brought up. I am  _ me _ after all, not  _ him _ .”

“Of course, of course, forgive me.” she says, and continues on. They mercifully avoid incurring Ai’s wrath once more for the rest of the taping.

“Could you tell us anything about you and Kurosaki?” she asks, voice lilting, and Ai feels the laugh that wants to break out of his throat.

“Kurosaki is simply an acquaintance. I just have a lot of hungry nights after shows, and he has always been kind enough to accompany me.” Ai says.

“Kurosaki doesn't usually get along with many idols.” she says in a stage whisper, as if its some big secret. “So we’re quite curious about how he gets along with you.”

“He’s really not as impossible to get along with as people think he is,” Ai says confidently, resting his chin on his fist with a carefully crafted calm. The seats they’re in are a little too ornate to be comfortable but Ai is dedicated to his façade of cool composure. “Most people just lack the will and patience to parse less. . .  _ open _ personalities. Anyone is likable if you’re willing to try.”

Ai knew this to be an absolute truth.

* * *

Turns out interviews are easy; Ai can talk circles around most people’s heads when it comes down to it, and they're just not intimidating after the first few. Unfortunately, other beasts are harder to slay.

Like huge groups of people all clamoring to talk with him.

Shining Agency has a very popular, if simple, policy about debuts: an agency-wide party was in order for them to get acquainted with other idols properly. Starish’s debut party last year was huge, packed to the brim with agents and idols and even idols from different agencies; Ai had cringed at the affair, glad he didn't have to endure it himself. That joy came to bite him in the ass because his own debut party was overflowing, for no fault of his own.

“ _ Ren Jinguji I am going to kill you. _ ” Ai hisses through a smile, sipping on his drink to avoid snarling at the blonde.

“You didn't think I'd miss your debut party, did you, Aimi dear~?” Ren coos over his glass, smiling.

“Did you have to bring your whole group with you?”

Fans are less intimidating than other idols, Ai decides in that moment. Fans know him well enough to let his eccentricities go; other idols look like they want to tear into his jugular for a taste of the fresh blood of new popularity. Ai can remember a lot of metaphorical bite marks taken from Aine, and it dredges up age-old anxieties from his stomach. Now though, he wasn't just worried about Aine and Reiji, but for himself. Starish’s presence has attracted all kinds of people tonight, and that worsens the feeling tenfold.

At least Starish is a  _ kind _ presence. They all give Ai their congratulations, bubbly and more than happy to include him in their conversation once Ai has done a circuit around the room.

“How do you and Ren know each other?” Cecil asks, all big eyes and wonder.

“He used to intern at Shining Agency, and we happened to meet.” Ai says simply.

“With some divine intervention.” Ren adds to be dramatic.

“More like demonic.”

Ren laughs and nudges Ai softly. Ai just rolls his eyes.

“Ah, incoming.” Ren says suddenly, and Ai manages to pass him his glass in time for Reiji to barrel in, tossing himself at Ai.

“ _ ‘Ji. _ ” Ai says exasperatedly, accepting the hug with a pat.

“Ai-Ai, you're officially part of the Shining family!” Reiji squeals, pressing his cheek to Ai’s temple. “I'm really your big brother now!”

“I'm very sorry for his behavior,” Ai offers Starish, ignoring Otoya and Syo’s quiet laughter and accepting his drink from Ren once more. “If you'll excuse us?”

“Of course.” Tokiya says, and Ai decides he likes him quite a bit.

“It was nice meeting you, Ai-chan!” Natsuki says, clapping a little, and Ai likes him too.

Masato tips his head respectfully. Ai decides Masato doesn't like him much. Reiji loosens his hold enough to let Ai whisk them away to a more private corner where Ai can berate him in peace.

“We've always been family, Reiji. This isn't where that starts.” is what he says instead, and the words catch him by surprise. They're true, of course, but Ai hadn't really expected to give the thought a voice; Reiji looks equally surprised, fingers tightening against Ai’s sleeve.

“Of course I know that,” Reiji whispers back, lifting his free hand to Ai’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

Usually, Reiji is  _ thrilled _ to hear such sweetness from Ai since it was such a rare occurrence, but his voice is colored with concern. Ai seems to be giving himself away, and he resolves to tighten his mask a little more.

“Yeah. Just nervous. I'll be okay.” Ai replies, shaking his head. “Are you going home soon?”

“I was planning on staying for a bit longer.”

“Well, if you can make a stop on your way, buy some chocolate. He's been craving lately and we keep forgetting.”

“Alright, I promise I'll get some.” Reiji says, squeezing Ai’s arm once more. “I could take you home, you know.”

“No,” Ai says sharply. “No, I'm not leaving yet. Camus said he was coming and I haven’t really spoken to many people yet. I'm going to stay.”

“If you insist.” Reiji sighs out. “You've got my number otherwise.”

“We both know he would wring us out if I called you before I called him.” Ai says wryly, and that gets Reiji to laugh a little.

“You're right, but we don't have to tell him you called me first~!”

“A secret between criminals.” Ai says.

“My only crime is loving you too much!”

“And keeping me up at night when you and my own  _ cousin _ \--”

“ _ Stop that!! _ ”

“I'm leaving now,” Ai laughs out and detangles himself from Reiji. “Try not to worry too much. I can take care of myself.”

* * *

Shining Saotome himself arrives for ten minutes to embarrass Ai in front of the crowd. Everyone is sympathetic to Ai’s plight. If anyone had yet to see Ai, they had officially noticed him now, which was his inevitable downfall.

Right after, Ai sings a few songs to the crowd. It’s scary, singing to people who are supposed to be his peers, who are better established and more well known. So, Ai does what he knows best; the unease pours out of him through his music, a resounding feeling that hides beneath the angelic nature of his voice. It settles under the skin of everyone who listens, gives his lyrics unnatural depth and the power to curl into their hearts.

Raw is the heart that tips its own blood into the waves, and Ai has been in the water for a very long time.

* * *

Ranmaru is busy being a social pariah on a nice, wine red loveseat pressed against the wall when Ai comes to him. There's something unnervingly deliberate about his steps, and then he's close enough to really  _ see _ and something clicks. Ranmaru closes his legs from a lazy sprawl so that Ai has space to sit next to him, delicately crossing his ankles and turning towards Ranmaru.

“Help me.” Ai says immediately, expression locked into polite interest.

“Hello to you too, twerp.” Ranmaru says, but he sits up a little bit straighter than before. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I would do anything to not have to talk to Eiichi Otori.”

“Then don't.”

“He's following me around.”

Ranmaru purses his lips in disbelief, but Ai tips his head in a wide arc to flip his bangs back, and when Ranmaru looks up, he sees Eiichi Otori hovering a few feet away. He's chatting up a few agents, but he seems to be edging closer through his casual swaying.

“That's real creepy.” Ranmaru decides, downing what's left of his drink. Ai’s isn't empty but it looks too warm to be enjoyable, and when Ranmaru drops his glass onto a side table, Ai mirrors him. “Aight, I'll help. You owe me one.”

“ _ Thank you. _ ” Ai says sincerely, and it's like a knot has been undone in his chest because he looks a little more like the Ai Ranmaru knows. “I would ask someone else, but you're really  _ the _ best at shaking people off.”

“Well, you live and you learn.” Ranmaru says, grabbing onto Ai’s hand. “Ready to fuck up our reputations a little more?”

“I make yours look better.” Ai retorts, lips curling when Ranmaru growls.

Ranmaru stands, tugging Ai up with him in the process. This immediately catches a few eyes, and the way they look-- Ai humorously anxious, and Ranmaru determinedly gruff-- gives off just enough  _ vibes _ to clear their way. Ranmaru tugs Ai back towards the bathrooms, and Ai has to remind himself that he  _ trusts _ Ranmaru to some degree; under his anger, Ranmaru was likable and surprisingly empathetic and probably wouldn't dump Ai off somewhere to get interrogated by the very invested idol of a rival company. Probably.

They pass the bathrooms entirely and make a turn into a hallway tucked in the back of the alcove, walls an off-white with doors that blended into each other. Ai isn't quite sure how Ranmaru is navigating, because they're walking a little  _ too _ fast to read any type of sign, but eventually there's a metal door with a glowing “exit” sign above it and Ai sighs in relief. It opens up to an alleyway, a dead end on one side and a brick wall closing it off across from the venue, while the other end leads to a small side road. Ai takes a deep breath of night air, feeling a weight lift at the almost-solitude.

“You alright there kid?” Ranmaru asks.

“I am now. People aren't my strong suit, and Otori. . .” Ai pauses, and wonders if talking is okay. He's never been one for sentimentality, but ramped up on anxiety and cool breezes, it slips his mind. “. . . He reminds me of too many untouchable boys and sharp tongued girls for me to ever feel comfortable around.”

With that, Ai finally lets go of Ranmaru just to curl his fingers right back into themselves. He stretches his arms up, then to his sides, his shirt sleeves wide and flowy enough to give his silhouette tiny angel wings. A speck of pure white in a dark, grimy alleyway, shoulders and neck glittering faintly with barely-there mica and every edge of a distinct face softened even in the dark, looking too otherworldly.

“People think they can hide their intentions, but when they're truly held they give themselves away. There's nothing more brilliant than what you care about, even if that care is misguided.” Ai says after a moment, arms dropping once more. He feels like leaning against the wall, but the immaculate paleness of his clothes stops him.

It feels like everything is stopping him.

Shaking his head, Ai sighs and digs his nails into his palm to recenter.  _ Stay here, stay here, _ he tells himself even as he looks up and gets lost in the swirls of the clouds. There’s no moonlight, a storm moving in on slow, steady winds, and the bumps and curves of the sky are fascinating to watch.

The dreaminess of exhaustion looks unnervingly pretty on Ai. Everything about Ai is unnervingly  _ something, _ though, Ranmaru has figured out. Ai inhabits an uncanny valley of personhood; something human is lurking under the chinadoll-smooth skin of Providence, something weak and soft and incomplete casting a shadow across a perfect face. It’s eerie.

Ranmaru picks up Ai’s hand once more, this time carefully unfurling his fingers. There’s brightly colored crescent marks on his skin, threatening to break out with blood, and when Ai notices he lets his hands go completely slack.

“Who are you?” Ranmaru finally asks, something like exasperation tinging his tone. “I’m really goddamn struggling over here to figure out what the hell you are.”

Ai smiles, something cryptic and teasing. He shrugs.

“I am whoever you think I am.” he says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. “A child in over his head. A heartless idol willing to date for status. An anxious disaster. Any of them fit to a degree, and so all of them are me.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

“Mm. You say so, but it’s true.”

“We’re people, not pieces of clay.”

“My greatest talent is adapting.”

“ _ Fine, _ ” Ranmaru groans out. “Then what do you want, or does that change too?”

Ai blinks.

“What do I want. . . ?” Ai asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “To sing, I suppose. It’s nice. And maybe one day I want to feel like less of a monster. I won't run to it, though.”

A monster? Ai’s the prettiest monster Ranmaru’s seen, and he's seen quite a few. Whatever thing is rearing its head in Ai’s mind makes Ai sigh and sway on his feet.

“Sometimes the media calls you a monster but I don't see it,” Ai says thoughtfully. “You're kind. Maybe not selfless, but you don't need to be. You've been holding onto me softly every time you've touched me.”

He says it with faux confidence, underlaid with the sense that  _ something is wrong.  _ Ranmaru tugs him closer, and Ai follows without complaint, eyeing Ranmaru a little.

“I don't see a reason to be rough.” Ranmaru states.

“I suppose not.” Ai agrees.

This is-- a lot, Ranmaru can't help but think, because he's starting to feel a little bit off kilter, like he's falling into the fantasy of Ai’s oddities and quiet acceptance. There's something  _ wrong _ with Ai, something inherent to who he is, and Ranmaru feels worried.

_ He’s not gonna last. _

It’s a chilling thought, because it’s not that Ranmaru has much of a stake in Ai but watching someone dissolve into nothing is a horrifying experience. Everything about him is brilliant but not obscenely so; he's like glow in the dark stars, the ones Nozomi sticks to every inch of her ceiling, a cool, soft glow in the depths of the night. But those stars fade and wink out, and Ranmaru just can't imagine Ai ever losing that halo of sharp brilliance he’s come to associate with him.

The door handle twists, and Ai closes his eyes for a moment, collecting himself.

“If it's Otori. . .” he says, and Ranmaru cuts the thought off by turning them over to press Ai against the wall. “Ranmaru!”

“You owe me, you owe me  _ so _ much,” Ranmaru whispers, squaring his shoulders so that Ai is even harder to see from the doorway. His free arm wraps around Ai’s middle, and Ai’s free hand grabs onto his jacket uneasily.

“Excuse m--”

Ai arches up into a kiss, lips warm and smooth and sweet, and Ranmaru says  _ fuck it. _ He presses closer, squeezing Ai’s hand and Ai takes the hint and flips it to weave their fingers together tightly. Ai makes himself more comfortable, eyes closing with grace Ranmaru isn’t sure is all natural; something pinches the space between Ai’s eyebrows, even as they move against each other with fluidity.

“. . . Pardon the intrusion.” Eiichi Otori says, voice a touch sly, before he retreats into the venue once more.

Ai slumps, head leaning back against the bricks. The hand on Ranmaru’s jacket loosens, only to go up and wipe at a corner of Ranmaru’s lip. Ai’s cheeks are dusted pink.

“I left some. . .” he says, floundering for a moment, and Ranmaru can't help but grin.

“What?” Ranmaru teases.

Ai huffs and rolls his eyes, looking away for a moment.

“Nothing. You're just, really careful. It’s all.” Ai insists, untangling from Ranmaru and crossing his arms a little. “This is going to make everything, ah, worse.”

“Yup.”

“Worse for me,” Ai corrects. “I still make you look good.”

Ranmaru tucks his hands into his pockets and just looks at Ai for a moment. Ai is still rosy, but he looks a little more relieved with Ranmaru filling his vision as opposed to the vastness of the world.

“Gotta make this work somehow.” Ranmaru decides, lips twisting a little. They taste vaguely of vanilla now, like the chapstick Ai had tried to wipe away.

“It's fine,” Ai says, nails tapping rhythmically. “It’s a PR thing. I'm  _ very _ good at PR. I'll lend you the stability you need for your footing in Shining Agency. I just need to. . . figure out how to ease myself into your image.”

“You really overthink stuff, huh?”

Ai just says “yeah”, unruffled, and rubs his palms together softly; they sting faintly, and Ai wishes the skin had just broken so that the itch would go away. Without thinking, Ranmaru fixes Ai’s sleeve, straightening it so it's fully off the shoulder instead of awkwardly riding up. Ai tries not to freeze.

“Seiichiro is going to be happy to hear it,” Ranmaru relents, sighing deeply. “So he'll pester me less.”

“Aine won't be half as happy probably. He’s a weirdo though.”

“You're both weirdos.”

“It's genetic, I suppose.”

Ai scrubs at his cheeks, looking conflicted.

“You're not gonna go back in, are you?”

“I will. I'm a lot of things, and determined is one of them.”

“Masochistic is more like it.” Ranmaru grumbles, scratching his nose. “Alright. Gotta sell it to Otori now, though.”

“Well we went to makeout in a back alley,” Ai says, humming softly. “It's obvious it's supposed to be a “secret” right? So maybe just being close will be enough.”

“I can't say we look like we’ve made out.” Ranmaru goads.

“Oh my God,” Ai mutters. “You’re a cretin,” he continues as he grabs onto Ranmaru’s lapels and pulls. “Camus was completely right.” Ranmaru snorts at that, lifting one hand to catch himself against the wall.

“Camus has his fuckin’ scepter so far up his ass it’s scrambling the two brain cells he has left.” Ranmaru retorts, leaning down.

“ _ Hey. _ ” Ai says warningly, head tilting to the side to contain his laughter; he loves Camus to death, but the Kisaragi-Mikaze household believed in giving dickheads their kumuppins when it came to it, and Camus could be a  _ real _ dickhead. “You're just proving him right.”

“I'm provin’ a lotta people right tonight, angel.”

“Cheers to more broken hearts on your trail.” Ai says haughtily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ranmaru says, and then they're pressed together again, and Ai’s response pins itself to the roof of his mouth for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wonder what kind of monster ai feels like. . . ?
> 
> [stop by my chitchat corner if you'd like!](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	6. reason will not reach a solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath is a little bit good, a little bit messy, but Ai is used to doing the wrong thing and getting the wrong reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nyellooooo tis a proper update!
> 
> title from [Lovefool by The Cardigans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwQbXrwYZAg) which has been stuck in my head for weeks

So maybe they had made out, and maybe it wasn't all awful or anything, but Camus looked unamused. Actually, he looked downright thunderous when Ai returned to the party looking a little more debauched, Ranmaru turning smug at his expression. And maybe Ranmaru is too close when he whispers to Ai that he’s going to get a drink,  _ want anything? _ as Camus starts making his way over, vengefully close, but Ai just says  _ get me whatever _ and bites his lip.

“You--” Camus starts, but Ai beats him to the punch.

“I know, I'm an awful friend, I'm making a mistake, yes I can do better, no I don't care.” Ai sighs out, fingers running through his hair. “You're fashionably late and I got distracted.”

“He's a--”

“Troglodyte?’

“ _ Stop that. _ ”

Ai twists his lips to the side ruefully, gaze dropping over Camus’s shoulder. He can see Eiichi fluttering in a group of people, no doubt being deceptively charming and sharp. He couldn't lie to a liar. Ai knew that.

He wouldn't have to, though.

“It's okay,” Ai says, looking Camus in the eyes. “He's been good, if you can believe it. Behaves himself.”

“The fact that you have to reassure me is awful. Your shadow won't be amused.”

“I know, but I have to get out of  _ his _ shadow someday.” Ai says without much feeling, finally straightening his hair to his liking. “I can't do everything he wants me to do, can I?”

“Dunno what you're talkin’ about but stick it to the man.” Ranmaru says as he slides back into the conversation, passing a cup to Ai. When Ai takes a sip, it tastes like raspberries and a little like honey.

“What  _ is _ this?” Ai asks, blinking a little in confusion.

“Don't worry, it ain't spiked.” Ranmaru assures before turning towards Camus. “Count Chocula, what an unpleasant surprise.”

“You're a glorified dandelion with pinkeye, Kurosaki.”

“ _ Boys. _ ” Ai chides immediately, using the same voice he uses to dissuade Aine and Reiji from particularly stupid ideas. “Pretend to get along or else I'll have to get mad. Camus is my friend, and Ranmaru is. . .  _ something _ .”

Ai raises his eyebrows in a “what can you do?” kind of gesture before going back to his drink. It's weird and really good, but it's too reminiscent of tea for comfort.

“You just got me tea.” Ai decides.

“Iced tea. It’s good.”

“Where do you even get iced tea at a venue like this?”

“By askin’ the bartender obviously.”

Ai startles when he feels a set of knuckles press against the hip furthest from Ranmaru. Camus looks fairly unhappy, so Ai assumes that it's Ranmaru’s hand. It moves in a simple up-down motion, so Ai moves into it innocently as he drinks.

“Thank you.” Ai says simply before turning his attention back on Camus. “Is there any reason you're late, or did you just do it to be a jerk?”

“I was busy.”

“Oh? Were you now?” Ai feigns disinterest, twirling a strand of his hair. “Cause you know, I was thinking, maybe it had something to do with a certain person being here that you didn't expect is all--”

“Quiet.”

“I just think it’s suspicious,” Ai continues, eyes narrowing onto Camus. “I'll be fine with Ranmaru if you're worried about good company; you don't have to hold back for my sake.”

Ai spies a familiar blonde over to his right and his smile turns sharp.

“Ren!” he calls out, slipping away from both Ranmaru and Camus. “You all know Camus, right? I know he's worked with some of you.”

“Just with Cesshi.” Ren confirms. “And I see you have Ran-chan with you, too.”

“ _ Ran-chan? _ ” Ai says, slowly turning to look at Ranmaru with thinly veiled humor. “Oh my, I seem to be behind on some things.”

“Shut up, twerp.” Ranmaru says immediately, flipping them off.

“No need to be rude, Ran-chan.” Ren dismisses.

“Jinguji.” Masato sighs out, long suffering and deep.

Ai is about to retort when a hand grabs his and tugs.

“Ai-Ai,” Reiji says, pulling Ai close. “You already met Otoyan and Ichii, right?”

“Tug my arm and rip it out of the socket, why don't you, ‘Ji.” Ai deadpans, even as he fits himself smoothly next to Reiji. He brushes a piece of confetti from Reiji’s brown hair thoughtlessly as he speaks. “I did meet them earlier, yes. Ren introduced me to his group.”

Otoya smiles brightly, clasping his hands together. Tokiya isn't quite smiling but he’s genial enough, so Ai nods at them both.

“I'm sorry if this idiot has been bothering you.” Ai says, semi-serious; Reiji whines loudly in his ear, grip tightening a little.

“You're so mean to me, Ai-Ai! I'm not bothering them at all! We're going to make a song together soon, so I just thought it would be fun to talk a little more!”

“So you've mentioned. It’s quite funny that I keep surrounding myself with Starish collaborators.” Ai says thoughtlessly, fixing the offset of his sleeves. “Are you excited to work together?”

“Very!” Otoya says immediately. “Rei-chan has been a great guide; we've learned a lot from him!”

“You finally got someone to call you Rei-chan, huh?” Ai teases, voice soft.

“Now all I need is for you to just call me big brother.” Reiji declares, pinching Ai’s cheek, and Ai waves him away.

“I won't, weirdo.” Ai says; it’s as much a promise as a tease, and Reiji pouts. “Only one person appeases you, as we all know, and that's your mother.”

“Or his boyfriend.” Tokiya chimes in, tilting his head in amusement. “How is Kisaragi?”

“Absolutely enamored, I'm sure.” Ai says drily, pursing his lips at the amused look Reiji gives him.

“He’s good,” Reiji assures, and Ai sees how he goes soft at the thought of Aine; his lips curve more smoothly, and his eyes glitter, and Ai is reminded as to why he has such a high opinion of Reiji in the first place. “Sometimes we get caught by the paparazzi when we're out on dates and stuff, but he takes it pretty well.”

Ai’s poker face sticks despite the way his mind spins into hysterical laughter; Aine had casually flipped off so many cameras, there were cohesive compilations on the internet of his hands. Tokiya snorts quietly for Ai, obviously aware of Aine’s less than perfect disposition, but Reiji is still glowing with love.

“It’s awful that the media won't leave him alone.” Otoya sighs out.

“That’s kinda my fault, haha!”

“It’s not,” Ai insists. “They smell blood in the water and they swarm. God forbid someone be human enough, to fail at being a paragon; they only care about a person as far as they can sell them, and then some.”

Knuckles brush his spine, a slow, steady up-down.

“They'll won't stop beating a dead horse ‘til it stops giving them money.” Ranmaru confirms before dropping his hand.

“At least we got something from his retirement,” Tokiya offers, crossing his arms. “I didn't think I’d get to see the normalization of relationships.”

“It was a long time coming,” Reiji assures. “There were plenty of idols getting married and wearing their rings. But well, we might have. . .  _ expedited _ the process.”

“You two made out live on stage.” Ai says in disbelief. “Expedited might be too weak of a word.”

“We didn't  _ make out! _ ” Reiji sputters, indignant.

“You dipped him on stage like a princess and kissed him, then said that he was “the reason I write love songs”, because that’s inconspicuous--”

“I! Am not the best at thinking things through all the time!”

“Or ever.” Ranmaru confirms. “You two have this argument a lot?”

“Yes.” Ai says simply, rolling his eyes.

“Looks like it.”

Ai takes it as a warning, whether Ranmaru means it or not, and turns towards him instead, crossing his arms. Ranmaru raises an eyebrow, but Ai just avoids his eyes. He feels like crawling out of his skin.

“You look like you wanna bail.” Ranmaru says.

“I kind of want to, but again, I'm stubborn.”

“Stupid and masochistic, you mean?”

“What's with you and  _ masochism. _ ”

“Hey, ask  _ yourself _ that, you're the masochist here.”

“Glutton for punishment.” Ai says finally, deciding that dwelling on the truthfulness of his statement was not something to be done sober. “I'm a glutton for punishment. Maybe that’s why I'm an idol.”

Ai clicks his tongue thoughtfully, finishing his drink. Ranmaru looks vaguely amused, and partly worried, and Ai bites his lip with a sigh. He couldn't deny his desire to leave already; the crowd was killing his will to stay, anxiety clawing its way up his chest. He hadn't thought to bring his anti anxiety medication to help assuage the maelstrom of emotions, thinking that he'd be fine.

“I'll have to bear it.” Ai says dismissively. “I can't leave my own debut party.”

* * *

The fire alarm screeches a few minutes later, sending everyone outside in a flurry of glitter and gold. Ai doesn't bother wondering who set it off since Ranmaru had been missing for the last ten minutes.

He heard a motorcycle revving somewhere, he's sure.

* * *

Ai’s therapist is really quite amused with the story the next morning; she watches Ai watch the ceiling as he throws a stress ball up and down rhythmically, voice cresting and crashing over the story with humor.

“He sounds like a good friend.” she offers.

“He pretends he's a big gruff mean guy.” Ai says, snorting. “Well actually, he is, but you know, I'm used to mean guys. It's a little boring blowing their cover at this point.”

“And you said the media was discussing you and this friend?”

“Mhm. Makes me anxious, but I know I can't control the media. I’ve kept control of my own sphere though.”

“And your friend, how is he taking it?”

“He doesn't care. It’s probably the best course of action.” Ai’s lips twitch up into a smile. “He can be pretty smart that way.”

* * *

“Aine,” Ai calls out as he enters their apartment later that morning.

“What?” Aine yells back from his room.

“I'm doing the dating thing.”

“Alright.” Aine responds, and Ai fumbles as he goes to lock the door.

“O. . . kay?” Ai murmurs.

Aine had been vehemently against the idea, but there he was, agreeing with Ai with ease. Ai curls his fingers tightly.

“I can't stop playing into his hands, can I?” he whispers to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems that there are some cracks in ai and aine's perfect relationship. . .
> 
> [ive been a lazy poster lately but im always open for chatting](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) I just keep getting stuck with bad or no wifi lately


	7. spicy boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting thing's squared away is easy, and it's even easier to play along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no impulse control lgfklkjgdlkj
> 
> college starts next monday for me and im nervous so ive decided to update instead of thinking about it
> 
> and also i know some people started today so!!! extra reason to share a nice cute chapter right
> 
> title from [spicy boyfriend by Shawn Wasabi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NzGGL0VpKUI)

Seiichiro, I actually got you what you wanted for once.” Ranmaru greets when Seiichiro picks up the phone. “Give me a slot and I'll make your sufferin’ worthwhile.”

“What are you talking about?” Seiichiro asks tiredly.

“I did what you wanted. Providence is going to help stabilize my image.”

Seiichiro pauses, taking in a sharp breath.

“Why did you agree?” Seiichiro finally asks suspiciously.

Ranmaru hums, jittering his leg thoughtfully.

“Do you ever see someone make a mistake, and then see someone else makin’ the same mistake?” Ranmaru asks, head lolling back to watch the sky. “That’s why. Can't sit by and let the same things happen over and over.”

“That's a pretty noble cause.” Seiichiro settles on saying.

“Nah. There ain't a noble bone in me.”

Ranmaru hangs up, opening a new message instead. Ai’s phone number was burning a hole through his pocket, given to him post make out session, and it was time to put it to good use.

* * *

“What did you do to your hands?” Ranmaru asks next time they meet, in the same hole in the wall café from before near Shining Agency; talking to Seiichiro was going to be interesting, and Ai needed something for the journey.

“Nothing?” Ai says curiously as they go up in the queue.

“Ain't an idiot.”

Ai looks at his hands, then notices his palms and hums his understanding. He'd become so used to the nail marks that they generally slipped his mind, going unnoticed.

“I forget how sharp my nails are sometimes,” Ai confesses, tucking his hands into his sweater pockets to hide the marks. “And I clench my fist a lot.”

“Looks like it.”

Ai orders honeydew bubble tea, happy with just that for now. Ranmaru gives Ai a look that Ai promptly ignores to sit in a reclusive corner instead in wait. He doesn't watch anyone in the cafe but instead looks out the front window; people bustle by, Ai’s sunglasses leaving them none the wiser to his watchful eye.

“You're being weird.” Ranmaru says as he sits down.

“People are fascinating creatures.” Ai says.

“You're a person too y’know.”

“Do I look like a person to you?”

The joke seems to fall short if Ranmaru’s glare is anything to go by, and Ai lifts his hands in a surrendering gesture before returning to his tea. Ranmaru’s sense of humor wasn't something Ai really understood, and Ai didn't quite know how to balance himself just yet. Scrubbing his eyes under his glasses, Ai wonders and chews on a pearl.

“Tired?” Ranmaru asks after a beat.

“I didn't sleep particularly well, no.” Ai admits, dropping his hands back on the table and focusing on reigning in his energy. “I'm perfectly functional though, so I'll take what I can get.”

“Cheers to that.”

“You don't sleep much?”

“I live off cat naps.”

“And you’re powered by rage.”

That gets a chuckle out of Ranmaru, and Ai sighs lowly into his straw. Maybe he was getting better at reading people. Probably not. Ai re-adjusts his glasses and tries to focus back on the crowd.

* * *

Seiichiro is so goddamn confused when they walk in together, but he's really trying his damnedest to look professional. Ranmaru kind of looks like he just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever to wear, and Ai looks like he’s descended straight from Heaven to unleash holy punishment to lesser beings, and oh God is Seiichiro trying  _ so hard. _ Ai is wholly cordial when he sits, and Seiichiro finds it easier to focus on his words as opposed to the juxtaposition of them sitting next to each other.

Ai is charming though, much more than the last time they met; without Aine’s overbearing presence, Ai’s smooth voice overflows and sings as he talks, all business with a hint of underlying softness. He barters just as well as Aine does, and by the time Seiichiro realizes it, Ai has won him over. There's just something  _ charming _ about the strictness of his words placed against the gentleness in his tone.

Providence is just endlessly charming.

* * *

“How long do you think it'll take Seii to realize you played him into giving you all the PR power?” Ranmaru asks as they step into the elevator.

“I didn't play him.” Ai insists, hitting the lobby button.

“You absolutely  _ did, _ no doubt about it.” Ranmaru insists, leaning back against the wall.

Ai’s lips curl up, and he purses them to try and hide it, but if Ranmaru’s snort is anything to go by he already saw it. Ai just looks down and plucks his sunglasses from his shirt, sliding them on.

“It’s not  _ my _ fault I sound like this.” Ai decides on saying. “People just readily agree with me.”

“I didn't know angels did charmspeak.” Ranmaru says drily, and Ai presses his fist to his mouth to keep back his humor. “Hey hey, stop that.”

Ranmaru pulls Ai’s hand away from his face, and Ai unfurls his fingers at the chiding. Ranmaru rubs at the red crescents on Ai’s palm, noticing older matching sets around the most current ones, before smoothly interlocking their fingers. Ai’s palm stings.

“. . . I'm an angel only in name,” Ai manages to say, before clearing his throat. “Is that really a good idea?”

“We're tryna sell it aren't we?” Ranmaru retorts, and Ai agrees quietly after a moment.

“People call me an angel but I don't think I'm very angelic.” Ai continues as they reach the lobby. “Really, I think I just look nice enough for people to think it. I'm sure if I had gone with a darker look people would be calling me something else.”

Ai drags the tip of his tongue across the blades of his teeth thoughtlessly, and let's Ranmaru guide him out of the elevator. He tucks his other hand into his pocket.

“I actually own dark clothing, to the shock of many.”

“You're telling me not everything you own gets stained by sunlight?”

“Hah. Nope. Unexpected?”

“I'm learnin’ to expect weird things from you.”

Ai laughs at that, head lolling to the side with a huff.

“I don't like being complicated but I think I can't help it.”

“Again, kinda weird, but that’s fine.” Ranmaru insists, opening one of the doors out onto the sidewalk.

Shining Agency was nestled into miles of well-kept forest, because Shining Saotome was a man who would not be outdone, and stepping out into nature does something good for Ai. He’s always been a shut in by habit, but the world really wasn't all that bad; he lags behind Ranmaru a little, taking in the scenery, and Ranmaru lets him. It’s spring, and the air is heavy with petals of all kinds, and Ai had always been a sucker for the things that flutter under his boot heel.

* * *

Ai looks out of place surrounded by foliage, like a fragile porcelain mask placed at the base of an ancient tree out of place. Not for the first time, Ranmaru wonders what he's just walked himself into with Ai. Ai is completely oblivious to Ranmaru’s thoughts, and he casually plucks a cherry blossom from a low hanging branch.

“They're so pale this year,” he comments as he twirls it gently. “They kind of look like snow.”

“I guess Shining’s slacking on the upkeep.” Ranmaru says, willing to humor Ai as he flicks through his phone. Ai’s oddities are unobtrusive; he keeps everything contained to himself, and the things that do bother Ranmaru are things he goes out of his way to notice, so it’s just easier to avoid looking. “Or, they’re the white variety.”

“I guess they could be, but I don't really know enough about cherry blossoms to tell the differences easily.”

“You don't need to know that kinda stuff.” Ranmaru points out absently.

“Not having to know is one thing, but knowing is just easier. Knowing a little bit of everything makes you a little bit good at everything.”

Ai says it as if it’s a little sage, but then he sighs and any serious feeling behind his words leave with his breath. Instead, he let's go of Ranmaru’s hand to snatch a couple more flowers as they walk by and pockets them. It’s quiet, and peaceful, and Ai curls around his own phone in no time, nails clicking consistently on his screen.

“Can you do me a favor and take a picture of me under the trees?” he asks abruptly, pace stuttering to a stop. “I usually can't get a good shot of everything.”

“You really wanna take a picture under cherry blossoms?” Ranmaru asks, raising an eyebrow. Ai nods.

“It’ll look nice.” Ai insists, holding his phone out to Ranmaru patiently.

“And then you say people are just  _ assuming _ you’re an angel when you go ‘round  _ reinforcing _ it.” Ranmaru grumbles, taking Ai’s phone, which is already open to the camera.

Ai smiles cheekily at Ranmaru, hopping off to stand under the canopy of two trees that are leaning towards each other. Ai twirls a thin, errant branch around his finger as he positions himself, and his back is to Ranmaru but Ranmaru snaps a photo anyway. The audio is on, and the artificial shutter click makes Ai look over his shoulder with a confused smile.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he turns towards Ranmaru, sliding off his sunglasses and pocketing them too.

“Testing it out.” Ranmaru says blandly, taking another picture without looking at the screen.

“I really shouldn't be surprised that you're being obnoxious about this.” Ai says, rolling his eyes. “Just get one good picture of me and then you’re free.”

“Define good,” Ranmaru prods, and Ai snorts, pressing his fist to his mouth.  _ Click. _

“Stop that! It means everything is in focus and I don't look like an idiot.” Ai clarifies.

“Please try to look like you're reading a scientific journal then, or maybe some theoretical physics textbooks.”

“. . . I know you're trying to be funny but I own a lot of science texts.”

“Oh my  _ God, _ ” Ranmaru half yells. “You're a huge fuckin’ nerd?”

“I guess! I like science. It’s not always clean and clear but it helps quantify,” Ai says, tugging on his sleeves a little. “It’s how we categorize the world and try to define it, and I think nothing is more valuable than trying and looking and learning--”

_ Click click. _ Ai blinks, pouting a little.  _ Click. _

“You're trying to flood my phone with bad pictures.” Ai accuses.

“If you’re into science, why don't you know jack shit ‘bout trees?” Ranmaru asks, knowing a provocative question when it occurred to him.

“Not everything is the same you know. I’m partial to more technical stuff, the mechanics and functionality of things like robots and A.I. I do coding and programming and physics, not botany.” Ai replies huffily, crossing his arms.

“You're into ai’s.” Ranmaru says with a shit eating grin.

“I'm into--” Ai’s voice stumbles to a stop and he looks like he wants to throttle Ranmaru for a second. “That's an awful joke, this isn't a bad cartoon.”

“Aw, c'mon Ai, it's a little funny.” Ranmaru cajoles. “Ai is into A.I.’s. Shows them a little love, if you will.”

“That's not even how you write my name.” Ai mutters, trying to not laugh; he presses his knuckles against his lips stubbornly.  _ Click. _ “Insufferable!”

“You can make Siri delete all my porn or something in revenge later, I'm sure,twerp.”

That gets Ai to laugh,  _ click click click, _ amidst an unfurling blush that crawls across his cheeks evenly,  _ click click. _ Ai turns away from the camera, flipping Ranmaru off,  _ click. _

“You’re the worst!” Ai says, giving up and moving to try and steal his phone back. “You know a nice picture is a really small request.”

“Who said I took any bad shots?” Ranmaru asks, lifting the phone up and away from Ai’s grip. Ai is just barely shorter than Ranmaru, but Ranmaru easily waves it above them both. “I'm tellin’ ya, I'm a fantastic photographer.”

“You're an idiot.” Ai sighs out. “Give me my phone please.”

“Mm,” Ranmaru pretends to think about it before taking one more picture of Ai from the high angle before dropping the phone into his hands. “There.”

“You're the worst.” Ai says, flicking through the photos Ranmaru took. He pauses. “Oh. They're actually not that bad.”

“Told ya so.”

Ai purses his lips before smiling; he likes the pictures quite a bit, the candids of him being a little more emotional than usual. They're admittedly more fun than the pretty picture he had in his mind, even though it would have been nice to have been able to take the nice picture anyway.

_ Click. _

Ai’s head shoots up, glaring at Ranmaru a little.

“ _ Hey. _ ”

Ranmaru just locks his phone and pockets it, smirking coyly. After they start walking again, he takes to his phone again.

[Sometimes @byprovidence isn't frowny, but only when he’s not looking at me] Ranmaru tweets along with the one photo of Ai he has on his phone. It sets off a notification for Ai immediately, and Ai elbows Ranmaru slightly.

“Obnoxious.” he sighs out again, retweeting it without comment.

* * *

[I asked @RanKurosaki to take one (1) nice picture of me and then he ruined it by doing everything but let me take a good picture] Ai tweets, attaching 4 of the pictures. He humors the thought of posting the one where he's flipping Ranmaru off but he knows better than to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [maru is psychic which means she already made adorable fanart of the picture scene <3<3<3](https://twitter.com/BeedrilBaseball/status/1013645923757355008)
> 
> [this is my tumblr if you wanna shoot me an ask!](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	8. couldn't ever try to make you see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's just something about provoking your fake boyfriend that makes you feel fulfilled, even if it lands you into some hot water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap thurs, ive been run over by this week and im tired and stuff happened last week and whatever so here pls enjoy
> 
> title from [L.A. Devotee by Panic! at the Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dQ1xiy-4hY)

Ai feels dizzy at 3 am; the spring time should offer some kind of breeze but it isn't helpful at all, instead offering a heavy heat over his head. Maybe stepping out wasn't a good idea, but he feels absolutely out of his skin. He wiggles into colorful leggings and a t-shirt before digging up a medical mask and a bright white Nike sweater he almost never wears; then, with the ease he learned from both Aine and high school, Ai quietly sneaks out of the apartment.

So. A 3 am gym run it was. The high end gyms that littered the neighborhood are brightly lit and run 24/7 for most of the time. They're all well stocked, catering to different idol health trends and rotating through brand name supplements like a revolver barrel. Ai had a favorite place, though, that he'd been frequenting since he was in high school. Stepping inside, the woman at the front desk snorts.

“Long time no see, Ai-chan.” she says.

“I didn't know they gave you the graveyard shift again.” Ai replies easily.

“Oh Megumi, won't you be a dear and take the night shift?” Megumi says in a mockingly high pitched voice. “And like an idiot, I said, of course mom, and that's why your parents can't own anything. But hey,  _ you're _ the idiot here at three thirty in the morning, so we're even.”

Ai snorts, shaking his head a little as he passes his member card to her.

“When were you going to tell me you were actually super famous, huh?” Megumi asks as she logs his arrival and passes it back. “I knew Providence before everyone else knew!”

“But you didn't know I was Providence, so you really didn't know anything.” is Ai’s rebuttal. “Now can I get a room, please?”

“Anything for you, Ai-chan.” Megumi says with a bright smile, giving Ai a passkey.

“Thank you Mimi.” Ai replies, wiggling his fingers at her; she matches the motion with a genuine smile as Ai enters further into the gym.

The key card opens one of the dance studio rooms tucked away in a hallway that burns Ai’s eyes with how bright green the walls are. The doors are all black at least, and Ai reminds himself to tell Mimi how horrific the color scheme truly is when he sees her on his way out. The room is mercifully normal on the inside, walls a much paler green and unadorned except for the mirror wall and balance bar. Shutting the door securely, Ai takes a deep breath and reminds himself to relax.

He couldn't relax if someone paid him a million dollars to do so.

So instead, he works on choreography.

Dancing wasn't new in the slightest, and in fact Ai enjoyed the physicality of it a lot-- he was always filled with restless energy, reigned in by habit but never fully conquered. He was always touching, tapping, swaying, and he couldn't help it most of the time. Getting fit was a good way to vent that out though, and dancing was something he'd need to learn anyway, so it all worked out in the end; and yet dancing to his own music was bizarre, something he had yet to get used to.

So 3 am energy siphoned into practicing choreography it was.

Ai could have done worse, really.

* * *

At 5 am Aine texts Ai a garbled string of letters that Ai translates as,  _ where are you you're not in bed, _ and Ai takes that as a sign to start making his way back. His phone’s battery is struggling anyway, from constantly looping the same songs over and over without respite.

Ai loops his mask over his ears, shimmies his jacket back on, and breathes deeply. He’s blissfully exhausted.

Mimi isn't at the front desk when Ai leaves, so he tips his hood over his head and goes silently on his way; when his phone vibrates, he contemplates not looking at it, but he stops at a coffee shop to buy something to eat and pulls it out anyway. Regardless of his feelings, there was no reason to scare the shit out of Aine.

[Don't scare mw] is what Aine sends.

[I'm on my way back.]

There's an email though. From  _ Seiichiro, _ surprisingly. At 5 am? Why would he be finding this at 5 am?

Ai clicks it, and let's out a shaky breath.  _ Insider Source Claims Ranmaru Kurosaki And Providence Are TOGETHER, _ a flashy headline reads from a link. The next four links are the same attention grabbing garbage.

“Insider source my ass.” Ai whispers as he collects his food. “I knew Otori would do this.”

* * *

“This is how it begins huh?” Ranmaru asks Seiichiro, chewing a piece of gum obnoxiously. When Ai walks into the office, he gives Ranmaru a look before holding out his hand.

“Give me one.” Ai insists, voice soft but missing its melodical nature for once.

“Dickhead.” Ranmaru grouches, digging for a stick of gum and depositing it into Ai’s palm.

“Prince charming,” Ai purrs, voice changing it’s tone as he pops it into his mouth. “So Eiichi Otori made good work of what he saw.”

“What, exactly, did he see?” Seiichiro asks suspiciously.

“Us making out in a dirty back alley like a couple’a teenagers.” Ranmaru says succinctly, and Ai has the decency to turn a little pink as he sits.

“It was on purpose.” Ai says firmly, watching Seiichiro’s reactions. “But if Otori makes himself a little more vocal we’ll have to expedite the process. You shouldn't deny that kind of stuff, because the potential backlash from different communities. Easier to admit and deal with fall out than to deny and then admit.”

“I do remember Aine and Reiji being very  _ direct _ after--” Seiichiro clears his throat, and Ai laughs. “--After making it very  _ public, _ but they were. . . different.”

“ _ I write all my love songs to you _ is real direct, I'll admit.” Ranmaru says drily.

“And then Aine just went down gracefully--” Ai says, waving his hand in circles. “--As ‘Ji dipped him for a kiss, because Aine is an enabler from hell.”

“You're  _ related.”  _ Ranmaru snorts out. “Maybe you're both enablers.”

“I’m different than him.” Ai insists, side eyeing Ranmaru.

“Yeah, alright,  _ Providence.” _

There's enough of  _ something _ behind Ranmaru’s voice that Ai prickles, deciding to ignore him. Instead, he faces Seiichiro and steels his shoulders.

“We need to start appearing on each other’s social media more,” Ai says. “Start showing up on each other’s pages. It’ll sway public opinion of Ranmaru if he's seen being normal for once.”

“I'm the normal one between us two!”

Seiichiro gives Ranmaru a look, raising an eyebrow.

“Tch. Fine. I'll take you out on a date or some shit, twerp.”

“Prince charming.” Ai reiterates, voice mockingly low. “It doesn't have to be that serious either.”

“I'm not taking you to another bar.”

Ai laughs at that, rolling his eyes as he stretches languidly in his seat. He’s still a little sore from his early morning (it counted as early morning, right?) practice, muscles humming.

“First off,  _ you _ didn't take me to the bar. Second, I don't  _ want _ to go to a bar. Think of something you would actually want to do, and then add me in, and see if it works for you.”

“I want to take a nap.”

“You always want to take a nap.” Seiichiro says matter of factly.

“It’s a good plan!”

Ai looks at Ranmaru, and for the first time Ranmaru can see Ai fighting himself over something. He smoothes the struggle away in an instant.

“. . . That's unreasonable.” Ai finally says.

“Nah, nah, we can make it work,” Ranmaru insists, almost impulsively. “Unless you've got a better idea.”

“I might.” Ai says, tilting his head a little. “We can go out and eat, and that'll constitute a very casual date, and then you can go for your nap after. It doesn't really have to be one or the other.”

“Fine.”

“You can choose where.” Ai insists at Ranmaru’s indignance. “I won't complain, promise.”

“Fiiiine.”

Ai sticks his tongue out, incurring Ranmaru’s wrath for a hot minute; Ranmaru swats at Ai, Ai laughing as he flinches away. After a moment Ranmaru sighs, and grabs Ai’s arm instead with a tug.

“Now?” Ai whines as Ranmaru stands and drags him to his feet.

“I  _ really _ want that nap.”

Ai stumbles up against Ranmaru, tilting his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. Ranmaru tilts his head the other way with a challenging look.

Seiichiro. Seiichiro does not like being a part of this.

“How about this,” Ai says softly, lips curling up a little; Ranmaru’s already lazy grip loosens more. “You go take that nap, and then we can go later when I look less like a mess?”

“You look fine,” Ranmaru insists as Ai’s fingers curl around his in an attempt to grip; Ai hides his other fist in his pocket. “Why put off what you can do now?”

Ai finally frowns, looking a blustering amount of genuine. Seiichiro looks down, rubbing his forehead a little. He really doesn't want to deal with this but he also doesn't want to interject and deal with the consequences of  _ that. _

“I really don't feel like I can go out like this,” Ai murmurs frustratedly.

“Don't feel too hot, Prov?” Ranmaru teases, and the tension snaps. Ai flinches, a restrained thing, and Ranmaru realizes that they're actually walking on a tightrope.

“I don't, actually.” Ai replies, glaring at Ranmaru as he slips his hand out of his grip. “I'll see you later.”

“. . . Okay, I deserve that.” Ranmaru admits as Ai makes his way out.

“Yes, you do.”

“Do you know how to function like a normal human being?” Seiichiro asks once Ai is gone. “I always had my doubts but--”

“Ha, ha,” Ranmaru interrupts, crossing his arms. “There's something wrong with that kid.”

“First, he's like, three years younger than you, cut it with that kid stuff.”

“ _ Ren _ is older than him.”

“And  _ you're _ younger than me, so stop giving me an attitude.” Seiichiro huffs. “Second, stop trying to provoke Mikaze all the time.”

“You drive a hard bargain there.”

“ _ If _ ,” Seiichiro says sharply. “He is anything like Aine, he doesn't need the extra stress.”

“Yanno, I always wondered why Aine left the job.” Ranmaru says, cocking his hip. “You wouldn't happen to know, would you?”

“I do know, but I'm not allowed to divulge,” Seiichiro hesitates for a moment. “What happened to Aine was. . . was wrong on our part. This agency made a mistake and I'm afraid Shining hasn't learned the lesson. I’m privy to it because I fight tooth and nail for Ren, and I care about him more than anything; I could never forgive myself if I let something happen to him while I have to power to stop it.”

That's-- that's too morbid, Ranmaru decides, those words bringing up too many horrible ideas at once. Seiichiro was a great manager who tended to go above and beyond for his idols, and now Ranmaru gets a creeping suspicion that he had witnessed  _ something _ go wrong with Aine; if he did see anything, it scared him past straight and into crooked.

“Ai is in good hands.” Seiichiro decides after a moment.

“Damn. I hope so.”

* * *

When Ai gets home, the apartment is empty. Aine was probably tangled with Reiji composing a new piece; for all Ai teased them, they spent their time together feeding each other's creativity more than anything else. It was actually fascinating to see them work together, and Ai had been allowed the pleasure of seeing that work for years.

The quiet is welcome. Ai is tired and a little fed up, considering Ranmaru loves to push all of his buttons it seemed.

Ai takes his second shower of the day, this time with some music and water burning hot so that the steam leaves him dizzy; even idols aren't immune to singing in the shower, so his voice crests over the stream shamelessly. Some of the songs are sharp reminders of his high school rebellion, others of cold nights with burning liquor, but most of them just remind him of things he would never bother to remember otherwise. Music was Ai’s key to his own memories, always leading him from door to door with ease.

He foregoes drying his hair for now, just towelling off the excess water before getting dressed in comfortable clothes. Nowhere to be for the rest of the day til the “date”, which was all in Ranmaru’s hands.

Now would be as good a time as any to give his bed some love considering his recent neglect.

Ai’s room belonged in a furniture catalog according to his uncle-- everything was clean, smooth lines, white walls, glass, polished silver, and the organization screamed “nobody lives here”. Ai couldn't help but be obscenely neat though, a habit ingrained since early childhood in his bones that he had failed to break in any way.

“If everything is in place, nothing will happen.” Ai recites to himself diligently as he hooks his phone to its charger and plucks his TV remote from the drawer right under. “And if nothing happens, everything will stay peaceful.”

Well. That was the hope. He can never recall if it was actually successful. Throwing himself onto bed, Ai lets himself drown in soft decorative pillows and clicks on the TV to watch something.

He stops on a police procedural show, cookie cutter with its structure while trying to pack on the outrageous to stand out. He knows better than to believe any of the crap they shill, but it's a sense morbid fascination that makes him watch them endlessly. Crime shows disgust Ai viscerally; there's more than enough blood and intrigue in his life that seeing more makes him gag, makes his chest tighten with old horrors. And yet it was hard to resist the allure of watching and judging against his own experiences with the police.

_ Glutton for punishment. _ That's what he had told Ranmaru, wasn't it? Hungry. Always hungry.

He eventually switches to some fashion show, safe and pretty and vapid, and he dozes in and out to its chatter.

* * *

When Ranmaru meets Ai outside of his chosen ramen shop, Ai somehow manages to look exactly the same but also even worse but also even better than earlier. It's a fucking conundrum. If Ai notices Ranmaru’s mental struggle he says nothing, instead just smiling and waving.

“Hey.” Ai says lightly, fingers rubbing the sleeves of his dark purple cardigan. “Sorry I’m a little late, I kind of dozed off this afternoon and was slow with getting ready.”

“You're barely late, don't worry about it.”

They seemed to have had the same idea-- Ai’s outfit is darker than usual, while Ranmaru’s is much lighter on the punk. Ai taps one of the many patches on Ranmaru’s denim jacket, tracing the edge of the design.

“This is really nice,” he says, head tilting closer to better read the logos that littered Ranmaru’s chest. Ranmaru is close enough to notice the lack of dazzling makeup that Ai usually wore. “Did the jacket come with these or did you put them on?”

“I put ‘em on.” Ranmaru says, tracing his eyes over Ai’s face slowly. Ai moves to the other side of the jacket, meaning his fringe was off of his face. “They're real easy.”

“I think they're great.” Ai says with a little smile, finally pulling away. “Maybe I should invest in patches.”

Ai grins, and Ranmaru sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You're gonna do this the rest of the night?” Ranmaru asks.

“You just don't like me.” Ai dismisses. “You're a tough crowd.”

“I don't like the whole lying to my face thing you've got going on.” Ranmaru says as he walks up to the door, Ai close behind.

“Would you rather I be unlikable?” Ai asks.

“I liked the you in the alleyway.”

Ai laughs as the walk inside, Ranmaru taking the lead. It’s another full bodied thing, mockingly warm.

“Oh,” Ai murmurs. “No you don't. You have no idea what  _ me _ you like.”

“Ranmaru is here!” the hostess says from the front desk, and Ai looks at her over his shoulder. “And he brought a friend!”

A few waitresses titter, and Ai could hear some quick jokes shot from the back, too muffled to really understand. The hostess smiles wide and happy, patting Ranmaru familiarly and nodding at Ai.

“Can you get us somethin’. . . I dunno, more private?” Ranmaru asks despite the growing headache between his temples at the prospect of letting Ai chat him into anger.

“Anything for you Ranmaru.” the hostess says, happily guiding them towards the back with a wink. “As long as you give me a nice tip.”

“I've never tipped under twenty and we both know it.” Ranmaru teases back, and Ai’s lips curl a little at the familiarity.

“I didn't know you committed yourself to bribery, Ranmaru.” Ai teases, and the hostess giggles.

“Only with us, right Ranmaru?” she teases.

“Only with you,” Ranmaru confirms with a nudge.

The booth she puts them in is in a back corner that’s fairly empty; Ai already likes the place, and makes himself comfortable as he sits. Instead of looking over the menu, Ai watches Ranmaru and the hostess bicker familiarly, letting the calm of it seep in.

“I'll give you two a moment to look over the menu before I send a server over.”

“Thanks Kiyoko.”

Once she’s gone, Ai finally settles his gaze on Ranmaru, smiling sharply.

“So,” he says conversationally, nails scratching up and down the sides of the menu. “How much do I scare you?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ai and ran getting each other pissed off is my kink,
> 
> [am on tumblr for chithchats!](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	9. seen this played out in my dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, who knows what the hell they're doing anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter was chapter 10 and i was so excited bc chapter 10 is rly fuckin mean but i guess i can leave yall with something nice for once
> 
> title from [Ghost by Mystery Skulls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FI6Lw1D3czg)

“. . . You don't scare me.” Ranmaru insists after a beat.

“Something about me is just so unlikable, so alien, that you're refusing to enjoy my pleasantries. What's wrong, hm?”

Ai’s looks down at the menu, eyes bouncing around as the little smile from before stays; it’s extremely honest, a bitterly amused thing that twists his face into something stressed.

“I admit that you're creepy as all hell,” Ranmaru says, causing Ai to snort. “But I ain't afraid of you.”

“Then if you're not afraid  _ of _ me, you must be afraid  _ for _ me.” Ai decides softly, fingertips tracing the smooth lines of text. “I can readily assure you that I can take care of myself, Kurosaki.”

“But can you really?” Ranmaru asks, something frustrated in his tone. “Cause you make yourself  _ look _ all pretty but you've got bags like a motherfucker and you've been in this shit mood all week that's drippin’ off ya like sludge.”

“ _ What, _ ” Ai says lowly, sharp eyes boring into Ranmaru suddenly. “Makes you think someone who provokes me and mocks me endlessly is anymore fit to take care of me than anyone else, hm?”

Ai just barely pokes the tip of his tongue out, and Ranmaru growls lowly just as a server appears at their side. Ai smiles disarmingly, ordering his food with an airy tone that belied none of his simmering feelings. Ranmaru orders in a much more foul mood, but almost everybody here knew him well enough to not let it bother them.

Ai says nothing as the server leaves, just settles into his seat and let's his fingers trace designs over the tabletop. He almost seems peaceful, except there's coiling tension held across his shoulders and up his neck.

“The games of this industry take a toll on you,” Ranmaru opts to say slowly. “Especially if you've been part of them for a long time. I'm not saying I'm gonna take care of you or anythin’ like that, but that you need to at least take care of yourself a little better.”

Ranmaru gives Ai a thoughtful look.

“You're gonna crumble apart if you don't.” he finishes.

“I'm not.” Ai says quickly, giving Ranmaru a sharp look. “You don't like me because you don't like how I live my life, but that doesn't mean it's going to fall apart.”

His staunch defense is maybe not a  _ shock, _ but like getting splashed with cold water. Ranmaru is no emotional genius by any measure, too callous and uncaring to really grasp the depths of other’s emotions, but this is almost plain to see: there is a fierce  _ fear _ trying hide itself from Ai’s face.

“Ai,” Ranmaru says, carefully reaching out to grab Ai’s curling fist. “ _ I'm _ not the one who’s afraid.”

Ai’s hands flatten on the table as their server returns with their food, and the night turns out to be very tense. Ai manages to keep his voice airy and sweet, but he refuses to look at Ranmaru directly. It tells Ranmaru all he needs to know.

* * *

“I hate him,” Ai gasps out, chest heaving with each little sob. “I hate him, I hate him  _ so _ much.”

Everything feels too hot, and Ai is struggling to hear his therapist over his misery. She doesn't seem to be saying much, just trying to soothe his breathing back down.

“I spend my whole life trying to not be afraid, and he just-- he just pulls it out!” Ai wheezes softly, curling further into his seat. “I hate him.” he buries his face into his knees, voice wavering. “I hate that he doesn't listen to what I say.”

“We don't just speak with our words,” she says softly. “Our faces and bodies can give us away. Maybe he reads those cues, and makes assumptions. But that  _ assumes _ you're lying to him somehow.”

Ai curls up tighter.

* * *

Aine stays at Reiji’s place for the rest of the week, and Ai spends the whole week locked away in the music room. It had been a spare bedroom at first, but the cousins had soundproofed the walls and piled in instruments at their leisure. A grand piano filled most of the room, but there were a few other instruments carefully lined against the walls.

Ai practically burns a hole into the piano bench the first day he’s alone, and burns through more paper than he thought he had. Aine had more foresight for this kind of stuff; a little plastic drawer set tucked in a corner was heavy with music writing materials, stuff Ai would forget but Aine made sure was there. He tweets regularly, and posts one of the pictures he didn't use from his little shoot with Ranmaru on Instagram to satiate the internet.

[Awful photographer @RanKurosaki]

Once he fills his quota of Providence-centric socialization, he drowns himself in sheet music and melodies and lyrics. Tapping the piano keys is almost cathartic in a way, leaving Ai satisfied at the end of each session in a way very few things did for him anymore.

“How are you angel?” Aine asks over the phone one day, and Ai is reminded to eat by his regular phone calls. “You've gotten quiet about Ranmaru lately.”

“He's a dickhead.” Ai says as he digs around the kitchen; Aine was the only one Ai ever let himself talk like this too, foul mouthed and hot tempered. “You don't even like him, so I don't bother mentioning him.”

“I mean, yeah, but he's not  _ that _ bad, is he?”

“I suppose not.” Ai relents.

“Go shower already or we’ll be late!” Reiji chides, and Ai laughs.

“I'm on the phone!” Aine protests.

“I'll talk to him,” Reiji insists, and Ai hears the phone switch hands. “Hello hello angel~!”

“Hello Reiji.” Ai says fondly “Do you two have a date today?”

“We do! I'm taking Aine to the beach today.”

“It  _ is _ almost summer.” Ai hums out.

The shower starts running somewhere in the background and then Reiji sighs heavily.

“Ai,” Reiji whispers. “Ai, I'm going to propose.”

Ai freezes, and then, he  _ shrieks _ .

“Finally!” Ai yells, excitement welling up in his chest as he jumps around; alternatively, Reiji was the only one who could make Ai squeal like an idiot. “Finally, oh my God, yes!”

Reiji starts laughing, relieved and soft, and Ai can hear him throw himself onto the bed.

“Oh God, I'm so glad you think this is a good idea.” Reiji admits.

“Did you tell uncle?”

“I did, and he seemed happy,” Reiji says, voice slowing down. “But I really wanted your approval. I wouldn't be able to do it if you said no. I was. . . kind of afraid?”

“Reiji Kotobuki,” Ai gasps out. “How dare you suggest I would say no! You and Aine are basically married already, and you’re my family whether you like it or not; I know you're going to be good to him, and I know he's going to be good to you.”

“That's all I want.” Reiji says, and Ai would hug him if he were nearby.

“Make it romantic as hell.” Ai insists.

“You  _ know _ I will.”

There's a mutual silence, and then Ai’s voice comes out weakly.

“I love you both.” he says fondly.

“We love you too, Ai.”

When Aine comes out of the shower, Ai continues their conversation as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Aine’s shaky, joyful call later that night is worth every second of waiting Ai has to do.

* * *

The ring is gorgeous, gold and twisted into a delicate tangle of vines; where they meet at the top, there’s a bright aquamarine gemstone flanked by two white diamonds. Aine let's Ai gush over it, Reiji smiling at Aine like he's never been happier-- and Ai can see that they really are glowing with joy. It becomes easy to shove aside the bitterness in his chest in the face of watching two of his most important people start possibly the most important new path in their lives.

They pop open a bottle of champagne, an indulgence rarely allowed within at the apartment for  _ many _ reasons, and if Ai tops himself off a few times too many, the joy over rode the realization.

Ai was going to be happy. He was going to be  _ so _ happy for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [if you need me, you know where to find me](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	10. i’m afraid that i may have faked it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranmaru really has to learn to be more exact with what he wishes for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot i had to update today lmao
> 
> title from [But It's Better If You Do by Panic! at the Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBtH2YlNiNc&list=PLADMAkGh6ghsIPUl0AhAqBz5mi-qRiOWS&index=5&t=0s)

There is stress on Ranmaru’s head even though he’s just sitting on his couch playing his bass. Nothing should be distracting him when he's making music, except apparently Ai was the exception to all the shit Ranmaru thinks has no exceptions. Maybe Ranmaru  _ is _ a little afraid of Ai, afraid of the speed that Ai can turn on Providence and how slow it takes for him to come back down.

Fuck. It stresses Ranmaru out that Ai only comes out when he's pissed. It'd be nice to meet the not-pissed Ai.

The thought is gonna chase Ranmaru until he gives it room to breathe.

Fuck it.

Ranmaru carefully puts his bass on its stand and pulls out his phone. Time to give Ai a ring.

The first surprise is that Ai actually picks up the phone. Huh.

“Yes?” Ai asks primly.

“I'm not sorry for saying those things the other day,” Ranmaru starts, and Ai snorts with no amusement. “But hell if we can't have a productive conversation so that we’re not at each other's throats.”

At least, that was as good of an excuse as Ranmaru knew Ai would like to hear. Ai was  _ all _ about parsing information and keeping business clear as far as Ranmaru could tell.

“I thought being at my throat was your favorite place to be?” Ai demures, pencil audibly scratching onto paper in the background.

“Don't play dumb.”

“Oh? Was that a growl I heard? How rude of you.”

Ai’s bitten off laugh when Ranmaru  _ does _ growl is almost genuine.

“Fine. Let's talk.” Ai relents.

“Face to face.”

“No faith in your ability to pick me apart just by voice?”

Sneering is an ugly word, but it describes Ai’s voice well in the moment. Ranmaru sighs, head tilting back, and he tries to remember that things will be better once he’s through with this.

“Ai.” Ranmaru says, not-quite-calmly. “Be a doll and let me try to be agreeable for once. I’m  _ actually _ tryin’ here.”

There's a pause on the other end of the line, the background noise slowing down but not quite stopping. Ai is probably thinking, and that's at least a little better than him outright saying no. Finally, Ai blows out a breath that sounds entirely resigned.

“Fine.” Ai says. “I'll humor you.”

* * *

Ai appears at Ranmaru's door, and somehow he looks pretty in the laziest outfit Ranmaru had ever seen him in. Ranmaru hates him. Plain black leggings aren't that attractive.  _ They can't be that attractive. _

Actually, Ai is wearing a lot of dark colors today; his t-shirt is navy with a blooming white floral pattern, and his sweater is grey and littered with fashionable tearing on the front. The only splashes of bright color are his shoes-- pastel blue-- and the washed out blue of his jean shorts, also tastefully tattered at their bottoms.

“You own normal people t-shirts?” Ranmaru teases thoughtlessly as he let's Ai in.

“I decided to humor you, so I went for dark colors.” Ai replies airily. “That doesn't mean I have to put any extra effort in getting together.”

“I should've guessed this was just a ploy.” Ranmaru mutters as he shuts the door.

“Because your intentions are so honest?”

“Do you ever get tired of that cake face or do your pores just never breath?”

“Maybe I'd take more offense if you didn't stare at me like I were an  _ actual _ piece of cake.”

Ai bites his lip with humor, watching Ranmaru flounder for a moment before laughing something haughty and rude. He turns around to face the cluttered apartment and makes himself comfortable on the arm of the couch.

“You are so--” Ranmaru starts.

“--Difficult?” Ai offers, crossing his ankles. “I know people consider me pretty, and I know  _ you _ think I'm pretty. But you also think I've got my head  _ so _ far up my ass that I don't notice you.”

Ranmaru steps up into Ai’s space, and Ai lazily lolls his head back to meet his gaze. Ai slowly rises, voice still light as he speaks.

“And if you really thought that,  _ really _ believed I wouldn't realize the way you look at me like a pet project you wouldn't mind keeping. . . Then I guess you really did end up buying Providence, whether you like it or not.” Ai says, head tilting to the side. “So. I win.

“Save yourself the trouble,” he continues, hands drifting to Ranmaru’s shoulders; it's an immensely careful touch, fluttering like it doesn't want to be there. “Just like Providence. It’s really not as bad as you think it is.”

Ranmaru kind of just wants to explode, but something is telling him that that’s also what Ai wants; wants a good reason to leave with a skip in his step and a victory in his pocket. So instead Ranmaru grabs one of Ai’s wrists-- softly, even without thinking about it, because he hasn't the power break Ai by any means but there's something like glass under his skin anyway-- and lifts it up to his mouth, lips pressing against Ai’s palm warmly. Playing Ai’s game it was.

“I'm not doin’ this to  _ buy _ anything,” Ranmaru insists lowly. “I'm doin’ this because something worth so much more is hiding under Providence.”

“You're not.” Ai says firmly despite something weak entering his eyes. “You're trying to prove something.”

“What could I be trying to prove?” Ranmaru asks, starting to leave feathery light kisses on Ai’s hand; there's a tremble to them, turning sharper with each little press.

“You--” Ai stumbles for a moment, still caught off guard. Ranmaru thinks he has the upper hand, but if he's honest, Ai is a few words away from unravelling him. “You forgot to ask me if I damn well wanted your help, because you're too busy thinking about making up for your own failings.”

Ranmaru’s lips wander to the back of Ai’s hand as he talks, eyes stock still on Ai’s face. Ai keeps looking between his hand and Ranmaru’s face, unable to decide where to land.

“You're just as selfish as everyone else,” Ai whispers. “You want me to make up for the things that went wrong for you.”

“You're selfish too.” Ranmaru retorts.

“At least I'm honest about what I want.”

“And  _ I've _ been honest about wanting to meet you, not Providence.”

Ranmaru’s lips push Ai’s sleeve backwards a little, and Ai flinches hard enough to graze Ranmaru’s nose; his hand is pressed to his chest before Ranmaru can blink, the one on Ranmaru’s shoulder pushing a little.

“Don't.” is all Ai says, obviously shaken. “Don't, don't try and be all soft, don't try and get under my skin; I'm trying to  _ help _ you, not let you find more ammunition for your bad attitude.”

“I don't get you.” Ranmaru says, frustration and concern bleeding into his tone. His fingertips are grazing Ai’s side, pressing soft and even still. “Who the fuck do you think you're helping, Ai? Yourself or me? You keep fuckin’ going back and forth, tryna convince me you're selfless and selfish. Can't choose?”

Ai squeezes his eyes shut, fists curling tight, and Ranmaru refuses to reach up.

“Why does it  _ matter!” _ Ai finally yells out, giving Ranmaru a nasty glare. “Why are you so adamant about being a  _ dick _ about everything I do?”

“How can it  _ not _ matter!” Ranmaru responds, voice rising. “It's your intention! How does that not matter!”

“I can't do this,” Ai says, going around Ranmaru shakily. “I can't do this.”

“Can't do  _ what _ ?” Ranmaru asks desperately, following Ai. “Ai, you can't leave when you're freaked out like that.”

“I can't do  _ this _ !”

Ai turns and suddenly they're chest to chest again, Ai’s pulse thrumming wildly and his eyes refusing to look up. Ranmaru stutters to a stop, taking a small step back from Ai. Ai’s breath hitches for a second,  _ something _ popping his bubble, and he looks a little more grounded.

“ _ This _ , this fucking-- you want to know me like it’s your job to figure me out and I don't want to--”

“Ai! Ai, fine, alright, Christ, I'll tone it down.” Ranmaru reassures, hands raising in a surrendering gesture. “Just, wait til you're not so upset to leave, okay?”

When Ai doesn't answer immediately, Ranmaru very slowly reaches out to touch Ai’s shoulder.

“When was the last time someone realized you were lyin’?” he asks quietly.

Ai finally looks up, and Ranmaru suddenly realizes Ai’s wearing soft white eyeliner on his inner lash line; it makes his eyes look that much larger, but he's still impossible to read. All it’s doing is pulling at Ranmaru’s heartstrings with an aggressive tug.

“When was the last time you let yourself move on from your anger?” Ai retorts, still high strung.

“I really don't like that question.”

Ai manages to quirk the smallest of smiles.

“I don't like yours.”

Ranmaru finally relents, dropping his hands to his pockets. He feels more stressed than before, but he got what he wanted: a side of  _ Ai _ that wasn't the pissed off side. The panicky side wasn't  _ fun _ but it was  _ novel _ at least. Ai's fists are pressed to his stomach defensively still, and Ranmaru sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

“You need to stop doin’ that.” he grouches.

Ai purses his lips for a moment, seemingly debating with himself.

“You want to know about me?” Ai asks.

“. . . Yeah. That's kinda why we just had that whole argument.” Ranmaru deadpans.

Ai nods, and sometimes Ranmaru wants nothing more than to understand what the  _ fuck _ goes on in Ai’s brain; half of the time it's brimming with musical genius, and the other half it's a mangled web of sharp emotions, and it's just real fucking weird. Ranmaru is so caught up in his own mental fuckery that the brilliant splash of red cupped in Ai’s palms is an actual fucking shock even if it seems kind of obvious in retrospect.

“Ah, only a few broke through.” Ai murmurs gratefully.

“Oh my God,” Ranmaru mutters dumbly, staring at Ai’s hands. “Oh my God.”

“I can't help it sometimes. Where is the bathroom?”

Ranmaru herds Ai into the bathroom quickly, muttering under his breath as Ai washes the crescent moon cuts. It's five little cuts in total across both hands, most of which are already clotting shut when Ai rinses them, but Ranmaru makes it a point to wipe each one down with alcohol before stubbornly wrapping Ai’s hands.

“They're fine,” Ai keeps insisting. “I heal fast and they never give me problems.”

“My house, my rules on how to deal with blood spewing injuries.”

“. . . I guess that's valid.”

_ “It is.” _

Once it's all said and done, Ai carefully stretches and bends his hand to take in how far he can stretch the bandages. It was pretty good all in all, the ends of his sleeves covering them for the most part, so he was satisfied in the end.

“Thank you.” Ai says quietly as Ranmaru puts everything back in its place.

“A real good thanks would be not being fake.” Ranmaru says, entirely absent mindedly; Ai can feel that this is going to become a habit if he doesn't nip it in the bud right now.

“It’s safe for you to hate the fake parts of me instead of the real parts of me.” Ai confesses casually, words encased in a bubble of truth. “If I can keep you far enough to where I'm safe but you won't leave, then I feel like we’ll both make the best of this.”

“Aren't you lonely, Ai?” Ranmaru asks, turning to look at Ai; they're close, breaths mingling between them in sweet little puffs that almost don't feel real.

“I'm okay with being a little lonely.” Ai says. The way his body refuses to back away says otherwise.

“No company has proven good enough?”

“Ah-- well. I'm here now, aren't I? And here you are too. . . so maybe some company has proved to be agreeable.”

The acquiesce is a foreign thing, soft and kind and truthful in its logic; Ai is tired, and it's hard to lie under the mental strain of emotional exhaustion. And maybe Ranmaru hoped for a better path to  _ this, _ a path that didn't involve all the yelling and anger, but a step forward was a step forward. So it’s easy,  _ so _ easy to press a little kiss to Ai’s mouth, fleeting and warm. Ai almost moves when Ranmaru pulls away, something like embarrassment tugging at his eyes, but then he leans up to return the kiss and all bets are off.

“Infuriating,” Ranmaru whispers against Ai’s mouth between kisses. “Absolutely fuckin’ infuriating.”

It's easier to gently kiss Ai until his mouth is pink than to think about anything else. It’s easier to just do it than ask himself why, why he’s trying, why Ai is letting him, why, why, why. It’s easier to just say that Ai is gorgeous and that it’s more than a good enough reason to be in this situation.

Ai doesn’t make things hard on Ranmaru for once.

* * *

“Hey!” Aine yells from the kitchen when Ai comes back, not looking up from where he and Reiji are concocting a new mess to label as food. “What's up angel?”

“I went to hang out with Ranmaru.” Ai says simply as he toes off his shoes.

“Oh? How was it?” Reiji asks.

“Fine. It's us, so it was as civil as it could be.”

Aine barks out a laugh, and Reiji simply nudges him, otherwise occupied. Ai pauses. He pauses and thinks, and thinks, and thinks, thinks about selfishness and Ranmaru and what he wants and what Aine and Reiji are and thinks until his body has already moved him down the hall towards his own room without his consent.

“Are you going to eat?” Aine yells.

“No,” Ai replies. “I ate with Ranmaru.”

It’s a lie but now there's too many thoughts mixing for Ai to bother. He doesn't want to be healthy. He wants to figure something out. He decides to follow Ranmaru’s example and take the easier path; he decidedly stops thinking about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been thinking that hopefully some of the songs i use as titles will get used in prov's body at some point
> 
> also ai lookin like a snacc is bc i looked like a snacc this week and nobody appreciated me so i need someone to appreciate snacc-titude
> 
>  
> 
> [college has made me lazy but i still love asks](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	11. cuando calienta el sol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun is heating up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i miss being blatantly hispanic :( so title from a bop that is older than me but is still from my childhood  
> i actually like a lot of older spanish music bc its prolific around here
> 
> title from [Cuando Calienta El Sol de Luis Miguel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTkJ-nP6pXY)
> 
> luis miguel with his long hair was somethin alright

There are a few other dates, all of them much more relaxed than their first one; Ai isn’t open but he seems to avoid flipping the Providence switch around Ranmaru as much. He spends an obscene amount of time on his phone though.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” Ranmaru finally asks one day, watching Ai chew on his drink’s straw slowly.

“Wedding planning.” Ai replies, not looking up. “I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let Aine and Reiji ruin their wedding day because they want to drape the hall in forest green and neon yellow like idiots.”

Ranmaru blinks slowly.

“They're getting married?”

“Yeah. Did I forget to mention it? It's been on my mind so much that I've been avoiding it.”

“Congrats to them.” Ranmaru says after a beat, leaning over the table to give Ai a more focused look. “How's it goin’?”

“They want a summer wedding on the beach because clichés are for celebrities.” Ai grouches quietly, shoulders hunkering in. “I don't like the beach but whatever. Not my wedding.”

“And where would you like your wedding? On the International Space Station, nerd?” Ranmaru teases, and Ai gives him an exasperated look over his phone.

“Don't be rude.” Ai chides.

“What, you won't tell me that the truth is that you're actually some kinda alien who wants to go back home?”

Ai snorts quietly at that, grabbing a napkin and hitting Ranmaru’s face with it obnoxiously. Ranmaru snatches it from Ai’s hand, balls it up, and throws it; it's damn frustrating when Ai catches and dumps it onto Ranmaru’s empty plate.

“It'd be during the winter,” Ai says simply as he returns to his phone. “Just because I like winter. I'm not much of a romantic though, so I've never thought much about marriage.”

“Not even you in a wedding dress?”

“Ugh. Aine had the gall to suggest I should wear one to balance things out.”

“Oh!” Ranmaru laughs out. “You'd look nice at least, right?”

“I’d look nice in any dress.” Ai says with certainty. “I just haven't found the right  _ Breakfast at Tiffany’s _ dress yet.”

“What’s stopped you from getting decked in Tiffany and hustling the rich?” Ranmaru asks, grinning when Ai touches his ear for a moment. It’s littered with small piercing holes Ranmaru had never heard the stories of; both of Ranmaru’s ears were very obviously stacked, but he couldn't tell with Ai since his other ear was eternally covered.

“Dunno. They came out with heart shaped studs that are Tiffany blue, and they’re really nice.” Ai muses, leaning over the table lazily. “Honestly the whole Return to Tiffany line is nice. Simple.”

“Can you imagine filling all your piercing holes with Tiffany?” Ranmaru jokes, dragging a calloused finger across the shell of Ai’s ear. Ai twitches but doesn’t do much else, engrossed between his thoughts and his phone.

“Do you think Tiffany makes high class tongue bars?” Ai shoots back. Ranmaru startles, looking down at Ai’s smirking mouth as he sticks out his tongue; there's a small hole there in the middle, almost unnoticeable. “I think I'd buy one.”

“I can't believe you've got a tongue piercing.” Ranmaru mutters in disbelief.

“I had a belly piercing too.” Ai continues casually. “It used to be so cute when I danced.”

Ai snickers at the way Ranmaru blinks down at him. He licks the blades of his teeth for good measure, knowing that Ranmaru would follow the movement. Whatever hollow not being Providence left in Ai was enough room to make him extremely teasing; Ranmaru refuses to get riled up at one in the afternoon by the idea of Ai with a tongue piercing.  _ He refuses. _ Ai laughs at the pinched expression on Ranmaru’s face.

“When did you get all those piercings?” Ranmaru asks, hoping the topic would be a little safer.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was a wild child?” Ai asks in return, completely serious.

“You're kidding.”

“I'm not. I took them out because they don't work for my angelic look very much.”

“Next you're gonna tell me you have tattoos.” Ranmaru scoffs.

Ai carefully glances up before pointedly looking back at his phone.

“Yeah, ridiculous.” Ai says.

“. . . Ai.” Ranmaru says.

Ai refuses to look up even as he begins to blush, instead typing diligently as he ignores Ranmaru. Ranmaru makes a  _ very _ disbelieving noise, dragging a finger under Ai’s chin; he coaxes Ai to tilt his head up to meet Ranmaru’s gaze, and Ai gets a little bit more flustered.

“. . . What.” Ai says, trying for a deadpan.

“Ai. Do you have any tattoos?”

“You said it yourself, that would be hard to believe.”

“Ai.” Ranmaru tries again, a smirk slowly curling onto his mouth.

Ai’s frown looks more like a pout, red cheeks giving him away. Despite Ranmaru’s bitching about Ai’s cake face before, Ai always strived for natural looking skin and lips if nothing else, and it let his blush shine through.

“It's only one.” Ai finally admits, words dragged out. “And it’s on my ankle and it’s hardly permanent.”

Almost as if he couldn't help himself, Ai pulls his right foot back away from where their legs are tangled comfortably and wrapped it around the leg of his seat as he speaks. It's defensive, and the first sign of cracks in Ai’s self-assured look, as if he doesn't quite trust Ranmaru around the idea of  _ that _ secret.

Hah. Ranmaru had proven himself more than equipped for Ai’s masks.

“What is it?”

“A four point star. It's a stick and poke.”

The idea of Ai sitting there, letting someone tap a needle by hand over and over again onto his ankle, seems almost absurd. Ranmaru had gotten a stick and poke before, and those fucks could  _ hurt; _ Ai seems like too delicate of a thing to sit through the process without flinching and ruining it entirely.

“It was my 18th birthday and I was drunk and it seemed like a good idea,” Ai mutters. “And it didn't come out badly, but I knew I was going to debut this year, and I knew it would still be there by then, and in the morning I was  _ so _ upset with myself for getting it done. But I don't even like wearing sandals usually, and I was already used to boots, so it was easy to hide.”

“Does Aine know?” Ranmaru asks. When Ai shakes his head no, something hot shoots through Ranmaru at the thought. “Does  _ anyone _ know?”

“No. I tend to wear socks around the house. And. . .” Ai pauses at this, thinking. “Well. I don't reveal a lot of skin usually so it’s not weird.”

There's something that itches about that phrase, like maybe it’s too weird and Ranmaru should scratch it for good measure, but then Ai sighs.

“Are you just going to keep me like this?” he asks, head tilting lightly from where it’s still propped on Ranmaru’s hand.

“Maybe.”

“Your hand is going to get tired.”

Ai lets the full weight of his head drop on Ranmaru’s hand, and Ranmaru stubbornly unfurls his fingers so that he's cupping the bottom of Ai’s jaw. Ai simply raises an eyebrow but returns to his phone.

“What do you think of pink camellias?” Ai asks after a beat, sighing. “I'm trying to move them away from extremely bright and neon colors because they're crazy, and I was thinking to go for either soft blues or pinks. You can't fuck those up, y'know?”

“Are you just in charge of their wedding stuff?” Ranmaru asks.

“I  _ am _ in charge and this is a dictatorship with some illusion of choice. Anyway, I'm worried about putting too much of one and making the other less of an accent and more of an outlier.”

“Okay, then why don't you just use pinks, blues, and purples? And you’d put the purples to help balance out how different the blues and pinks are.”

Ai blinks thoughtfully before a smile spreads across his mouth in earnest. He shoots up and presses a surprising kiss to Ranmaru’s mouth, leaving Ranmaru in mild shock as Ai leans back into his seat and starts typing furiously.

“You can be so smart sometimes.” Ai says.

_ What the fuck, _ Ranmaru thinks as he mirrors Ai and leans back too.  _ And I thought Ai wasn't impulsive. _

* * *

The pictures are blurry at best but Ai had candy colored hair and Ranmaru was easy to spot in his leather jacket, so it’s obvious as to who is doing what.

There’s a bizarre tension in Ai when the picture is posted and hits his radar.

“We’re compromised.” Ai says casually as they walk out of the restaurant. “Ah, you're going to have to pretend a little more now.”

Ranmaru yawns, stretching upwards and cracking his spine loudly. Ai gives him a soft shove, rolling his eyes with a smile; leave it to Ranmaru to be tired in the face of the world starting to suddenly close in. Ranmaru grabs Ai’s hand when he goes to pull away, and it startles Ai enough for him to stumble up against Ranmaru’s chest.

“Who said I have to pretend, hm?” Ranmaru asks, putting Ai’s hand on his shoulder.

Ai grips the fabric lightly, eyes fluttering in confusion until Ranmaru leans in and kisses him. It’s almost nostalgic, as Ai leans in, the way they fit together-- the alleyway had been much cooler, and the sunlight was almost glaring here unlike before, but it was still the same. Ranmaru’s touch is soft, and Ai is gripping his clothes in an attempt to hold onto done modicum of control.

But the alley was also very  _ different _ \-- it was  _ heated, _ trying to  _ look _ heated, and whatever little frustrations they had felt were vented out. The bathroom was the next best thing, but that had barely even been more than closed-mouthed presses to chase away lingering tenseness.

_ This _ was Ranmaru leaving a lingering warmth on Ai’s mouth, a slow, opened mouthed picking apart of his thoughts. Ai feels a blush tint his cheeks unwittingly, and when Ranmaru pulls away, Ai feels. . . embarrassed.

“Pretty.” Ranmaru mutters, pressing a shockingly chaste kiss to Ai’s cheek.

“Why did you do that?” Ai replies quietly, eye shutting on the side Ranmaru was pressing against. Looking at him was too much.

“Cause I wanted to.” Ranmaru replies simply.

Ai breathes in slowly before pushing Ranmaru away a little.

“Be careful, you might convince yourself of something.” Ai chides under his breath.

“Something like what?”

“Something that isn't true.”

* * *

“Ran-chan, I didn't know you and Aimi were and item!” Ren says, spread luxuriously across a sofa in Shining Agency. He seems to have strategically placed himself where Ranmaru would see him as he walked in.

Ranmaru casually sits himself on top of Ren with no remorse. His agitated wheezing is music to Ranmaru's ear.

* * *

Ai's twitter mentions are a warzone, but he's not Providence for nothing. A lot of people are questioning just  _ how _ they're actually together in the first place, which really tickles Ai since it's genuinely stupid as hell.

[So maybe I am sorta dating @RanKurosaki. Is anyone really that surprised?] he tweets out playfully. It turns into a thread full of Providence's fun, quirky, brilliant persona.

[I mean. Let's be real. He's got great abs ;)]

[Also!!! He's actually pretty sweet on me so maybe that /also/ helps.]

[But don't tell him I said that, he'll get pissy I ruined his tough guy image~]

All is good until Ranmaru actually responds to the tweets.

[@byprovidence thanks babe im glad i have your vote of confidence on how good my personality is]

[@RanKursoaki any time ;)]

* * *

Thump-thump-thump.

Pause.

Thump-thump-thump.

Pause.

Thump-thump-thump.

“Ai stop beating the shit out of the wall!” Aine yells.

“Fuck off!”

Aine pokes his head through Ai’s doorway, glaring wildly as Ai continues his rhythm of throwing his stress ball against the wall. The way Ai is resolutely rearing his arm back to  _ destroy _ the wall with his hits is unnerving. Ai was  _ not _ a violent person.

“What the fuck?” Aine asks succinctly.

“You know, he doesn't want to play with Providence,” Ai grits out,  _ slam, _ he grabs the ball again. “So! So you know, I tone it down right? I’m getting ready for the fucking bullying,”  _ Slam, _ grab,  _ slam, _ grab. “And then he just--” Slam, bounce, crash.

Ai  _ coils, _ grabs onto his loose hair with a huff before going to the other side of the bed where the stress ball had slammed into his phone on the nightstand. Aine slips into the room with a frown, and when Ai pops back up he refuses to look at Aine at all.

“You're supposed to be packing.” Ai says instead of finishing his thought, throwing himself onto his bed instead of continuing, burying himself into the sheets instead of facing Aine.

“Moving isn't nearly as urgent as you seem to be making it out to be.” Aine says, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Ai.

“I like to sulk alone.”

“Why are you sulking angel?”

“Because Ranmaru drives me crazy and I hate him.”

The next words Ai expects from Aine’s mouth are some kind of variant of “I told you so” or “toss him”, or maybe just a huffy laugh. Aine had been opposed to it, after all, and his silence on the topic had seemed to be his way of letting Ai know that the responsibility of doing this without his consent was on Ai. Aine had never been an actual parental figure to Ai by any means, but he had always had power over Ai so it was always important for Ai to stay quiet, and the defiance was out of the ordinary.

“All I could possibly recommend is to just talk to him?” Aine says instead, and Ai gives his pillow a confused look. “Jinguuji said you were fairly good at making him be a little more reasonable, so maybe you just need to find a middle ground where you aren't going to murder a wall because of him.”

“Don't worry,” Ai says as he rolls away to snatch up his phone. “I have damage control to do, and Ranmaru is going to play along, so he’ll be bearable.”

“ _ We’re _ running damage control.” Aine corrects.

“ _ You _ are busy moving out.” Ai says sharply, waving Aine off. “The faster you're done, the faster you can get back to being my manager.”

“You are so--”

“Infuriating? Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately.”

* * *

When Ranmaru knocks on the apartment door, he's not sure what to expect. Ai being late was practically unheard of, and him not picking up his phone was even  _ more _ bizarre; Ranmaru wouldn't say he was concerned, but enough was enough. Reiji Kotobuki answering the door is-- something, alright. Music is absolutely  _ blaring _ from the living room.

“Ran-Ran!” Reiji says happily, ladle in one hand. “Come in! I'll grab Ai-Ai for you.”

There’s just a whole bunch of shit  _ everywhere, _ and Ranmaru immediately knows it'll drive Ai crazy if it hasn't already. Ai kept himself organized, kept his phone impeccably put together, and had never left a restaurant table lacking in neatly stacked plates to make things easy. There's also boxes that seem to have some things in them, but really everything is tossed to and fro. Reiji disappears down the hallway to the right, and when he returns, Ai and Aine are trailing behind him. Ai's hair is in a bun, but there are flyaways everywhere and he keeps scrubbing his cheeks with his sweater sleeves. Seeing Ai in sweatpants and a fuzzy sweater is an invigorating experience, Ranmaru decides, because Ai just looks his age for once.

“Sorry,” Ai says as he walks right past the door. “I'll get dressed, I was helping Aine pack.”

“Are you telling me you're  _ not _ ready?” Ranmaru asks sarcastically, leaning back against the door. “Color me surprised.”

“Shut up Ranmaru.” Ai replies, exasperation clear in his voice.

“You know we can just cancel right?”

“I don't cancel anything.”

“Cause you're ridiculous.”

“Say that to my face!”

And then his bedroom door clicks shut and Ranmaru rolls his eyes. Aine had been flicking his gaze between Ai and Ranmaru, hand covering his mouth and chin thoughtfully; an engagement ring glitters on his finger, a particularly flashy testament to his relationship, in Ranmaru’s opinion. Reiji had returned to the kitchen and was humming audibly. It feels a little awkward, but eventually Aine turns the music down and turns to talk to Ranmaru.

“So, welcome to our house midmove.” Aine says, voice deceptively light. “I'm moving in with Reiji because we're engaged.”

“Ai mentioned it.” Ranmaru says, crossing his arms and relaxing. “Congrats.”

“Thanks. How are you two getting along?”

Ranmaru purses his lips, thinking about it, before settling on “as good as it can be” in a resolute voice. Reiji snorts.

“That's a valid response.” Aine says, huffing.

“If you talk to them you lose the last few brain cells you have left.” Ai yells as he walks back out, tightening his half ponytail.

“First, rude,” Ranmaru says blandly, flipping Ai off. Ai reciprocates. “Second, that was way too fast.”

“ _ Somebody _ in this house has to be quick considering the people here.”

“I resent that!” Aine protests.

“If you resent that, then maybe you should get all your shit put away.”

With that, Ai grabs a lonesome t-shirt and tosses it at Aine as he walks by. Aine yelps and catches it, pouting at Ai and following him like a lost puppy.

“I'm bad at this, angel!”

“You're terrible at housekeeping and so is Reiji, so I don't even want to  _ know _ what your place is going to be like.”

“We've lived together before!”

“And it was bad!”

“They always argue like this.” Reiji says, catching Ranmaru's attention. “I remember when Ai used to be so quiet, Aine could never get a rise out of him, let alone get him to smile; now they just see each other and things get heated! It's funny, seeing Ai so emotional.”

“Is it  _ really, _ ‘cause he's just constantly irritated on my end.” Ranmaru says, tapping his foot. “Can't say it's very funny.”

“Ran-Ran, you are  _ also _ constantly irritated.”

“Touché.”

Ai walks back out with chapstick, Aine still following him around with a dumb grin. Ai is shaking his head but he looks happy enough.

“Let's go.” he sighs out, smoothing out his fringe.

“You're really not gonna be satisfied no matter where we go.” Ranmaru insists. “You don't like rushing.”

“He's right you know.” Aine sing-songs, making his way to the kitchen. His voice brings stress lines to Ai’s forehead before he smooths his expression back out. “We're the same that way.”

“We're the same in a lot of ways Aine, but I actually know how to cope.”

“Debatable!”

“You're making my ability to cope with your bullshit debatable right about now Kisaragi.”

Reiji whistles as Aine tries to hide behind him; unfortunately, both he and Ai are fairly tall while Reiji is a few obvious centimeters shorter so it is a futile attempt. Ai ushers Ranmaru to turn around and open the door, giving him a little shove out.

“Finish packing and actually put your stuff away.”

Ai shuts and resolutely locks the door, loud enough that those inside can hear it, before turning to Ranmaru.

“Aine has been pushing the depths of my patience lately.” Ai says, brushing his fringe back once more. “They're in the cupcake phase all over again, but  _ worse _ somehow.”

Ranmaru snorts, following Ai as he makes his way to the elevator. It's almost deja vu when Ai mutters, “habits” under his breath.

“I stand by my statement, you're way too revved up to go anywhere.”

“Well I'm already out of my house and will not be returning to it for the next few hours for my own health,  _ so _ .”

Ranmaru casually wraps his arms around Ai, dropping his head on Ai's shoulder with a groan. Ai pauses his stride, side eying Ranmaru; Ranmaru just keeps groaning obnoxiously.

“. . .  _ Yes, _ Ranmaru?” Ai asks after a beat.

“I really don't want to go out if you're in a shit mood cause then you'll get  _ me _ in a shit mood.” Ranmaru says with finality, tilting his head so that his mouth is right next to Ai's ear. “So how about we do something private and low energy instead?”

“Ah,” Ai picks at his sleeves silently, thinking about it to avoid the feeling of Ranmaru being so close. “I suppose that’s alright. What do you suggest?”

“Dunno,” Ranmaru drums his fingers on Ai's stomach, rhythmic and quick, and Ai squirms further into his chest. “Could just go to my place and eat pizza.”

“You just want to take a nap.” Ai accuses, head turning away from Ranmaru.

“Maybe.” Ranmaru says, popping and obnoxious kiss to Ai's neck. Ai squeaks, getting away from Ranmaru in one swift move.

“Why are you so obnoxious!”

Ai is red and is repeatedly hitting the elevator button with unrestrained passion. It's genuinely hilarious

“You are  _ really _ not used to the whole boyfriend idea huh?”

“It's not that, you're just. . . weirdly touchy all the time. I don't get it.”

“ _ I'm _ weirdly touchy?” Ranmaru asks in disbelief as they enter the elevator. “What kinda people have  _ you _ been dating kid.”

Ai crosses his arms tightly, gripping his sleeves and staring straight ahead. The elevator is smooth in its descent, and Ranmaru pointedly stares at the side of Ai's head, awaiting a response. It refuses to come.

“Like, seriously,” Ranmaru tries again.

“You keep asking questions like I'm going to actually bother answering them. Do you never learn?”

“You really make me want to pick you up and launch you out of a window sometimes.”

“Wouldn't be the first time; I am apparently  _ very _ unlikable when I'm not Providence.”

“You are so fuckin’ sad to watch.” Ranmaru blurts out just as the doors slide open.

Ai opens his mouth, then shuts it with a click as they walk out. He doesn't seem angry, just thoughtful, and he twirls a section of his hair with slow fingers.

“I don't have a satisfying answer for that.” he says finally, tugging a little.

“I don't think there's a satisfying answer for something like that.”

“I'd like for there to be one.” Ai admits.

The victory of honesty feels hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [;)](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	12. átame al pulgar derecho de tu corazón

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the little things, isn't it? Always the little things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi, this isnt me promising to post regularly, i just felt motivated to post today lol
> 
> title from [Frío, Frío de Juan Luis Guerra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHhza3EgHe8)
> 
> the version linked above is actually my favorite version where Juan Luis Guerra and Romeo Santos sing it together live, and honestly their voices are great. Juan Luis Guerra's voice instills this warm nostalgia from how long ive been listening to his music (all of which is great ) and Romeo Santos has this smooth gorgeous tone (even if he is un descarado ldlgjdkf) and the combination is like warm honey and milk for me

There's something satisfying about the way Ai curls up after he eats; he's entrapped one of Ranmaru's pillows between his chest and his pulled up legs, arms wrapped comfortably around his knees. He's passive, fight and uncertainty buried under the satisfaction of breaking his diet well and whole. Ai had swept through Ranmaru's kitchen like a goddamn hurricane after they ate though, and cleaned up everything and anything slightly out of place, so maybe that's what  _ really _ got him all tired.

Ranmaru is sprawled almost sleepily on the other side of the couch, flicking through channels-- they had managed to catch the tail end of some awful sci-fi movie, where Ai had quietly complained about the robotics the whole time. It was fascinating, but Ranmaru didn't understand half of it, and Ai has hesitated to elaborate. “It's hard to explain,” Ai had said, even though it was obvious it was all clearly outlined in his head.

“If you could script a sci-fi show you'd just teach the world how to make their own robot.” Ranmaru says, a hint of humor under his gruff tone.

“AI systems are harder to program than you seem to think they are.” Ai replies flatly.

“Can  _ you _ program an AI system?”

Ai hesitates for a moment, fingers scratching the edge of his napkin thoughtfully.

“No.” Ai finally says. “I've managed to make systems that learn, but those are extremely restrained; they're only meant to learn little things and they're not always effective. I wrote a program that caught common keystroke mistakes of different users, and then it could guess fairly accurately who was typing when, and that's about as good as it's gotten.”

Ranmaru hums, fascinated.

“That's kinda cool.” he says honestly, and Ai goes a little pink as he wrings the paper. “I mean I dunno why you'd use that but it's cool.”

“I use it to track who's been on my computer,” Ai says. “Both my uncle and Aine use it regularly and I pretend to not notice.”

“Why?”

“They're just worried. It helps them feel better to look through it sometimes.”

Ai shrugs, unbothered even when Ranmaru's eyebrows scrunch together at the idea. It's not like Ai didn't have a modicum of control-- he had walked out on Aine while throwing out  _ commands _ of all things-- but his willingness to just accept regular invasions of privacy is unnerving.

“My parents were crazy controlling when I was younger,” Ranmaru says, head lolling to the side to look at Ai. “I turned out rebellious ‘cause of it, and I did call kinds'a things under their noses.” he pauses there, snorting quietly. “And I also did  _ very _ obvious things to show them that they couldn't stop me.”

Ai laughs, quiet and unbelieving, but honest to a fault.

“I guess we don't all turn out the same.” Ai settles on.

“The real question is why yer  _ uncle _ is snooping too.”

“Because he's my legal guardian.”

Ai is unruffled at revealing that, and again it should feel like a victory to hear such honesty from such a silvered tongue; instead, Ranmaru just feels unbalanced at the new tidbit of information. Ai looks over at Ranmaru, blinking at his expression.

“What?” Ai asks, and whatever calm brusqueness he had gives way to sharp eyes. “Would you like to know something, Ranmaru?”

“Yeah, you read me like a fuckin’ book there.”

Ai shrugs, lips curling up playfully as he lazily stretches out. Ranmaru doesn't change his sprawl, even as he stares Ai down.

Asking didn't work. Ranmaru  _ knows _ it doesn't work, because Ai is wily and when he's not being slick he just doesn't bother. A new approach comes to mind, and it's an uncomfortable idea, but damn if winning their little off kilter competition doesn't fuel him.

(Ranmaru is pretty sure  _ he's _ the one who made this a competition; there is no prize, no palpable way to count wins and losses except for his own feelings, and if Ai is playing along he's a dozen points ahead and a world away. Ranmaru doesn't care.)

“And what do you want to know this time, Ranmaru?” Ai asks condescendingly.

“Don't worry about it.” Ranmaru dismissed, waving it out of the air with the remote. He starts flipping channels again, eyes trained on the screen. “I was never real close to my uncles and aunts, so I just think it's weird that you're so close to yours. I haven't heard from any of my more distant relatives since my father's death.”

Ai draws in an audible breath, holding it before slowly letting it out.

“I'm sorry,” Ai says quietly. “I didn't mean to prod at any raw nerves.”

“It's not raw.” Ranmaru says. “They're bastards, and have always been.”

There's a little huff and Ai hugs the pillow to his chest, hiding his mouth behind it's fringes. There's tension in his jaw, a soft thing full of unspoken words, but Ranmaru isn't looking so the spill catches him by surprise.

“Most of my extended family doesn't like me very much,” Ai says. “It's not my fault I am the way I am, but you can't help the way others decide to treat you, can you? So I guess we both have that in common.”

It's a blow to the stomach. There's an old hurt in Ai's voice, lost in thought and almost inaudible, but Ranmaru knows that pains like that just don't disappear; there's something that never heals from knowing your family doesn't love you the way you thought they did.

“Aine likes ya just fine, I'd hazard.” Ranmaru says, and if his voice is a little soft, a little encouraging, Ai doesn't mention it.

“He does, but he was always a lonely kid. I think I appeared in the right place at the right time.” Ai confesses. “I was what Aine needed, and Aine was what I needed. And I'm glad that's how it turned out.”

“Did you two not grow up close?” Ranmaru asks conversationally as he lands on some romance drama just starting to air. “I only ever saw relatives during the holidays, and I haven't spoken to ‘em in a long time.”

“No. We didn't meet until I was ten and he was fifteen.”

Ranmaru whistles, the kind of “oh wow” whistle that shows just enough interest to not be discouraging, but not enough to be a pressure. Ai laughs, and Ranmaru glances at him; Ai is staring at Ranmaru unwaveringly, and he shifts closer with intent.

“You got me,” Ai says. “I fell for it.”

“There was nothing to fall for.”

“I beg to differ.”

“My dad really  _ is _ dead, if that's what you're wondering, and I really  _ don't _ talk to most of my family.”

“And I believe you, but you've never offered this much before,” and Ai is getting closer, almost threateningly if it weren't for the fact he was made for speed and Ranmaru was made for strength; and now Ranmaru is thinking about Ai's body, but he's still listening to the deceptively light tone, the way his lips wrap around soft syllables oh-so sweetly. “So you learned and you've adapted and now you think you're going to get under my skin?”

“Is it really that hard to believe I just want to know about you?” Ranmaru shoots back, watching the tether tight tension within Ai. “You want to sell this right? Then you have to give me something to work with.”

Ai’s fingers curl into the pillow, movements halted.

“I tried to give you Providence.” Ai whispers.

“I’m pretty sure we've established I don't want Providence.” Ranmaru says dryly. voice edged with the sharpened edge of renewed anger.

“And what if there's nothing else I can give?”

“I don't believe that for a second.” Ranmaru says, sitting up; its quick enough to draw a flinch from Ai, but to his credit, he squares his shoulders right after.

“You don't have to believe in something for it to be true.”

“Okay, let's try this again,” Ranmaru huffs out, pointing an accusatory finger at Ai. “You, Ai Mikaze, are a person. You're not just your work. You like robotics and coding and you let your family snoop because you love them and you miss your piercings and you sent me a cat video while I was recording last night. Those are the things I want to know about.”

“Then if you want those things, you have to give them to me too.”

Ai sounds sure despite the quiet of his voice, and there's a serenity to it, as if he already knows he'll get what he wants. It's a momentary stalemate; they're close from the magnetic pull of their argument, and Ranmaru feels any resistance crumble.

“An eye for an eye.” he says.

“An eye for an eye.” Ai agrees.

“Then, I have a younger sister.”

“Oh.” Ai blinks, disarmed. “I have no siblings. At least, I don't think so. What's her name?”

“Nozomi.”

“How old is she?”

“Twelve.”

Ai's mouth curves into a smile, a little confused but also a little pleased.

“I always assumed that you were the oldest of your siblings if you had any.” Ai confesses, leaning back comfortably once more; his knees draw up to face Ranmaru, and Ranmaru doesn't turn but he does sit back. “You just seem like the type.”

“I do  _ not _ .”

“You do. You're a mother hen about everything.”

“False accusations.”

Ai giggles, and he manages to steal the remote; he changes the channel to a black and white movie, and then hides the remote from Ranmaru. When Ranmaru tries to get it back, Ai defends it, and they end up tangled together languidly; it's cozy, Ranmaru's head landing somewhere between Ai's stomach and chest, and Ai puts his captive pillow under his head instead.

“Thank you.” Ai says suddenly. “You. . . you and Aine were right.”

“It ain't about being right.” Ranmaru replies smoothly. “But it's nice to hear it from you once.”

Ai gently slaps Ranmaru's head, and they bicker softly for a few more minutes. Ai's fingers drift to Ranmaru's shoulder, and they stay there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [im here on occasion](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


	13. i wanna tame your lion heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's the real predator in the idol industry? And who has always been prey?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ni me mires i cant explain my hiatus or my updating schedule just know that im a mess frenetically juggling oneshots
> 
> title from [ Lion Heart by Girls' Generation (SNSD)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVCubhQ454c)

Everything accidentally lines up  _ really _ well, and even Ai couldn't have planned it better. Ranmaru's new album, Ai's first music video since his face reveal, and their relationship blooming into the media all coincide with each other; suddenly, shows are scrambling to coax Ai onto their sound stages in hopes that Ranmaru will follow him in. Ranmaru is infamous for not appearing on shows that don't break their backs on really convincing him they're worth his time. Ai is enough of an unknown variable that they're going to try every tactic to get him on.

Ai video chats Ranmaru one day while on break, still in costume and frazzled. Red chunky glitter tracks down from the inner corners of his eyes, contrasting roughly with the dazzling silver of his highlight and deep violet of his headphones. Ranmaru snorts the moment he sees it.

“Goddamn,” Ranmaru says from his kitchen. “You really don't pull punches.”

“My other music videos are all soft with underlying darkness.” Ai recites diligently, eyes closing. “I like it. Maybe I just want to continue the trend.”

“So what are you  _ supposed _ to be?”

“You'll laugh.”

“I damn sure will.”

“I'm supposed to be an  _ angel _ .”

Ranmaru  _ does _ laugh, a hearty, rude thing that has Ai squinting at him.

“Listen, if making an angel bleed glitter isn't an aesthetic, I'll just have to stop making music.” Ai says stubbornly.

“ _ You, _ ” Ranmaru snorts out. “You just want to kill the angel everyone sees you as.”

“And I'll do it for money.”

Ranmaru drops his phone on the countertop, and Ai can hear him rustling around as he starts working on making himself food. Ranmaru had returned from the studio recently; Ai can tell because he can see that Ranmaru is actually dressed like a human being as opposed to his usual mismatched mess when he doesn't have to go out. Unless he'd gone somewhere that isn't the studio.

“Did you do anything today?” Ai asks suddenly, once the noise has quieted down.

“I did, Detective Mikaze.”

Ai rolls his eyes, sprawling out onto the couch backstage. The crew is bustling around Ai, leaving him in peace since he was still shiny with sweat from dancing. His hair stylist won't be too happy, but the cushions feel comfortable and Ai's leg aches with faint, old pains.

“It just reminds me that shows keep calling me.” Ai sighs out. “Gotta appear together on one at some point. Choose a fun one.”

Ranmaru peeks into frame, eyebrows raised skeptically. Ai mirrors him.

“Me.” he deadpans. “Choose a fun one. I've only been to, like, two programs and those have always been sit downs. Not fun.”

“Right.” Ai huffs, biting his cheek. “Variety shows are fun but then again, they make you do stuff.”

“If you get me to agree to go onto a variety show, they'll skip calling you angel and go straight to god status.”

Ai laughs at that, shaking his head.

“Finish eating and try to get cozy with a program, Ranmaru,” Ai insists. “Text me anything you think you'd like to appear on, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Ranmaru grumbles. Something sizzles in a pan, and Ai sighs.

“I'd kill to be able to eat right now,” Ai says, free hand searching on the floor. When Ranmaru peeks in once more, Ai has a knife prop pressed against a puffed out cheek. “Save me some.”

“Not with that in your hand.” Ranmaru says.

“Talking to your boyfriend, Mikaze?” one of the older crew members teases as she walks by, and Ai huffs.

“Yeah,” Ai mutters dismissively.

“Do you know how many people have asked me about you today, Ai?” Ranmaru remembers suddenly, and Ai stares at his ceiling with curiosity.

“Really?” Ai asks.

“People don't  _ talk _ to me, but it's free season all of a sudden cause now I got the hottest scoop on Providence.” Ranmaru grumbles. “You know who asked about you? Syo Kurusu. Syo. I've never seen Syo, let alone spoken to him.”

“You've seen him.” Ai says firmly. “He was at my debut party and I'm sure Ren has mentioned him to you.”

“Point is you're  _ so _ mysterious even your future collaborators are asking me about you.”

Ai frowns, expression pulling his makeup every which way. The director calls for Ai, break now over, and Ai sighs.

“It's complicated.” Ai murmurs faintly, the handle of the knife squeaking faintly as he squeezes it. “I have to go back on stage.”

“Have a good shoot.” Ranmaru says dryly, and Ai laughs.

“Thank you,  _ honey _ .” he teases, and laughs at Ranmaru's indignant sputtering.

* * *

Ai ends the night with faint red stains all over his cheeks, lips, jaw; they look like soft scratch marks, and he takes a half-dark picture of himself with a teasing grin for his Instagram story. He adds “bloody pretty” in the corner in glowing cursive and sends it into the world as he exits the studio.

[Food?]

That's Aine.

[Food.]

When Ai gets home, he expects something from the Kotobuki's bento shop or some other takeout; Reiji's mother tends to mother Ai more than her own kids, and sends Ai endless containers of food. He owes her a visit soon, and that's what he's thinking of when he gets inside, only to realize someone is on his couch.

Ranmaru, dressed nicely in warm reds and browns, is chilling on Ai's couch.

“Aine bullied me into being here.” Ranmaru says succinctly.

“Ah. Sounds about right.” Ai murmurs faintly. “He doesn't like it when I'm alone.”

“He's very scary.”

“. . . Did he go mama bear on you?” Ai asks, feeling a mortified blush climb onto his cheeks; he takes a second too long to lock his door. “Please say he didn't.”

Ranmaru opens his mouth. Closes it. Stands. Ai feels whatever miniscule crumbles of energy he had left dissolve in a pit of hot liquid misery.

“I brought'cha food.” he diverts.

“Oh my god.” Ai whispers, hands covering his reddening face. “ _ Oh my god. _ What did he say?”

“I was  _ just _ gonna drop off food.” Ranmaru promises.

Ai slides down the door, feeling wildly hot with shame. Aine was a total mama bear when Ai wasn't around; he had intimidated all of Ai's highschool dates when Ai would leave them alone for even half a second. Prom was a nightmare. A goddamn  _ nightmare _ .

“He told me he'd kill me if I fed you spicy food.”

Ai makes an agonized noise.

“And something about not even thinking about seeing the inside of your bedroom.”

Ai resists falling over.

“And then he started talking about body image and protection--”

Ai yelps, finally looking up at Ranmaru who is both amused and dead inside. He's sure he looks dizzyingly red now, streaky makeup only amplifying the color. Ai takes a deep breath and stands back up, feeling huffy; he's tired, his leg hurts, and Aine pushing his buttons was a little too much to deal with.

“He had no right,” Ai says, trying to keep his voice level. “I'm sorry he was so strong with you. He knows this isn't a-- well, he knows of course. I guess he's just feeling nostalgic.”

“For what, bullying your exes?” Ranmaru jokes weakly.

“He was at the hospital at one point, and I got into trouble with a boyfriend at the same time, and ever since he's made it his mission to fight everyone I date. But we're not really dating, so I guess he just felt that he needed to kick up some kind of fuss since I've been single since that. . .  _ event _ .”

“No wonder he went to town on me,” Ranmaru says as they walk into the kitchen together. “Like, he really laid it on thick. I've had girlfriends whose parents were less aggressively strict on me than your cousin is, man.”

“Aine thinks I'm his kid.” and Ai punctuates the thought with a single sharply raised eyebrow. “You said you brought me food?”

“I did.” Ranmaru confirms, and once Ai is happily eating on the counter, Ranmaru stares.

It's really quite unnerving. Ai has his chopsticks pressed to his lips when he finally looks up at Ranmaru.

“. . . What?” Ai murmurs.

“What is it with you and food?” Ranmaru finally asks. “You eat like you're in love with it, but every time I talk to you, you haven't eaten.”

“Your food is delicious,” Ai purrs, playfully leaning closer to him. “Doesn't that make you happy?”

“Unf. Shaddap.” Ranmaru dismisses, and Ai giggles as he brings another serving of noodles to his mouth. “I just want to know if I need to feed you from now on.”

“That'd be a dream.” Ai jokes, eating happily. “You recorded today?”

“I had a recording session and a photoshoot back to back,” Ranmaru sighs out, obviously tired at the thought of it. “I really did  _ not _ have fun.”

“Did you wear that for the photo shoot?”

“Nah. They had  _ outfits _ ready.”

The sneer in his words makes Ai laugh again, nails clicking together as he covers his mouth. Ranmaru doesn't  _ ramble, _ but he  _ does _ continue bitching as Ai eats, and Ai listens patiently. Ai's bowl is empty by the time Ranmaru's run out of steam.

“Thank you for the food,” Ai says softly as he sets himself to clean what little mess is left in the kitchen. “Next time I'll make you something, hm?”

“You can cook?” Ranmaru prods.

“Not as well as you can, but it's good enough.” Ai pauses, head tilting to the side as he washes. “I haven't poisoned anyone and I can still appreciate good food so I  _ think _ it's good enough. I don't think Aine would have the heart to tell me if it were bad, though.”

That makes Ranmaru laugh, and when he agrees, Ai feels a bubbling warmth at the normalcy.

* * *

Ai quickly finds his proper footing not in Ranmaru, but in Eiichi Otori. They cross paths when Ai is settling to eat at a chic café that Ranmaru wouldn't touch with a six foot pole; it's gorgeous but boring, menu much too sweet for him. Ai still plans on buying something for him anyway, even if it's just a bitter coffee made with overhyped foreign beans.

“Mikaze,” Eiichi says, voice curdled by its excess saccharine, and Ai rests his head on his fist to watch Eiichi draw near. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“You don't have to play games with me, Otori,” Ai assures, carelessly waving towards the empty seat across from him. “I only  _ look _ stupid.”

“Hardly.” Eiichi says, sitting himself comfortably.

“And I thought I had the world convinced.” Ai demures, beaming at the waitress who approaches. “Two green teas, if you would, and that'll be all for now dear.”

She quickly jots the order down, bowing and leaving, and Ai turns his gaze to Eiichi's face. There were plenty of people in the idol industry that feared the Otori family, with their power and easily flared tempers, but Ai had lost fear for physical things like that.  _ People _ in of themselves didn't scare him, just their ability to dig into him.

Eiichi was  _ really _ shit at digging into a sober Ai.

“How’s Heavens getting along?” Ai asks conversationally.

“Swimmingly. How are you and Kurosaki?” Eiichi replies, and this,  _ this _ is where Ai finds himself.

He feels his second face make itself comfortable as he bites his lips, curls the edges with thawed out fondness; he unwittingly thinks of Ranmaru watching him play  _ Watch Dogs _ for a while after dinner with an odd interest, and he let's Providence take the feeling and fold it into the performance.

“We're quite well.” Ai says. “I know you'd hope for less after your little stunt with the press, but if there's a more resilient set of people in the industry than us, I'd be shocked.”

“You flatter yourself.”

“And you wouldn't know the truth if it rested on your nose.”

Ai smiles sharply, thanking the waitress as she returns with their drinks. Just to drive the point home, Ai blows across the top of his cup delicately before taking a scalding sip, feeling it burn along with Eiichi's look.

“So,” Ai says after a moment. “What exactly do you want, Otori?”

“Just you.” Eiichi replies calmly, and Ai titters emptily.

“Forward forward, I'm taken and loyal Otori.”

“We both know what I mean.”

Ai smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I'm not leaving Shining for Raging.” Ai says. His voice is feather light. “We've had this discussion before.”

“I wanted to leave the offer on the table, considering Shining has never been  _ kind _ to public relationships. I'm just keeping your wellbeing in mind.”

Ai's laugh is unintentionally sweet, and he leans back into his seat with his cup firmly in hand; lifting it to his lips, he let's the steam shroud Eiichi for a moment.

“Eiichi Otori,” Ai purrs, sharpening his words like knives and aiming them with deft precision. “You're a sad little idol under the thumb of a man who doesn't love you. You cannot make me believe for a second that Raging knows the first thing about caring for a loving relationship. Do  _ not _ take me for an idiot.”

And maybe it's cruel-- maybe Ai is letting his own bitterness stain others-- but the way Eiichi  _ almost _ flinches fills Ai's mouth with copper, leaves him wanting more. He's craving another bite into the body bleeding out into the sea.

He refuses himself.

Instead he smiles, and takes a calming sip of tea. Let's pleasantries roll off his tongue. Let's Eiichi escape, mostly unscathed. Let's the untouched tea cool.

He orders Ranmaru's coffee before he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i have a tumblr, i guess](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [i also started doing song of the day stories on my instagram in the spirit of how every prov chapter is named after a song?](https://www.instagram.com/selenolatries/)


	14. who the hell am i?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forward momentum, step, 1, 2, and we're lost again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ch was collecting dust completed and im having so much trouble with my literature paper that i said fuck it!!! fuck it might as well yeet it into the world. i havent written anything after i wrote the final line of this chapter so :/
> 
> title from [Persona by RM from BTS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Uy0opVF3s)

Ai drags Ranmaru kicking and screaming onto a variety show; it was a more relaxed one where it'd mostly be questions with a little bit of messing around in between. Ai was careful in his choice, and even though Ranmaru wasn't pleased, Ai assured him of it's mildness.

The hostess is a charismatic but soft spoken blonde (well, she's blonde  _ now _ ) that wears smart looking trousers and a polka dotted blouse; she insists that they call her Ayami backstage, and Ai smiles enough for both him and Ranmaru. She chats up a storm with Ai as the stylists touch up Ranmaru's makeup and hair.

“Be polite.” Ai murmurs teasingly to Ranmaru when they switch off to him and he can't speak anymore.

“No promises.” Ranmaru grunts, but he let's Ai curl a couple of their fingers together placatingly.

Ai is careful to not press his nails into his skin when one of the stylist gets too close to his eye with their eyeliner; he can feel Ranmaru lazily thumbing one of the designs on his acrylics, done sparkly and flashy for the music video, as he hums on and off to Ayami's voice. Ranmaru keeps a rhythm, short short long, and it's comfortable enough that Ai's other fist unclenches.

“Well,” Ayami says brightly as she stands up. “I'm going to get ready for the opening, good luck you two!”

Ai presses the edge of a nail into Ranmaru's palm.

“Thanks.” Ranmaru just barely gets out.

The stylist puts a soft peachy color on Ai's lips, and he frowns; the whole look is gorgeous, but  _ way _ too hot for his usual tastes. Providence is a creature of cold colors right now, smokey with a few sharp blade edges and while the pinks are beautiful on his skin, it feels wrong. It looks  _ wrong _ with Providence right now. Ai purses his lips thoughtfully, wondering what to do. Ranmaru snorts when he sees it.

“You look like an idiot.” he says coolly, snapping to catch the head stylist's attention. “Hey, hey, don't settle this shit, it looks horrible.”

“Ranmaru.” Ai chides softly, but Ranmaru just stands up and pulls Ai along.

“Ai.” Ranmaru says, leaning down close to Ai's ear. “I don't have to like Providence, but your look is important to you, isn't it?”

Ai purses his lips, but Ranmaru already knows the answer and shoves him towards the bathroom hastily.

“Get all of it off,” he insists, and turns to put his foot down with the stylists.

If Ai had less control of himself, he'd giggle at the sight of rough cut Ranmaru telling a bunch of neat professionals how to do Ai's makeup. As it is, all it does is remind Ai that Ranmaru spends enough time looking at his face to know what makeup looks good on him. Ai is careful as he washes off the stylist's hard work, slightly mournful, and he returns barefaced and uneasy.

Ranmaru lazily swatching an eyeshadow on his wrist, stylists scared off, makes Ai grin a little.

“Oh good, we have like fifteen minutes to get you redone.” Ranmaru says, waving for Ai to sit back down on the styling chair.

“We should have matching eye shadow.” Ai jokes, and Ranmaru rolls his eyes.

“How about instead, we give you a cool smoke out and dark lips?” Ranmaru asks, but it's not really asking as he picks up a single shadow and hands it off to Ai.

“Ah, sounds pretty.” Ai admits, digging for a blending brush. “We'll be dark opposites. You're warm and I'm cold.”

They had coordinated on wearing black; Ai in a trademark soft wide black sweater, and Ranmaru going for one of his more beloved leather jackets and band t-shirts. Teardrop earrings bring a pop of violet to Ai's face, and Ranmaru gets on one knee to carefully line Ai's lips with a deep lip liner as Ai goes into the eyeshadow. Ai leaves his mouth pliant so Ranmaru can guide the pencil smoothly, and ignores a couple of stage hands tittering and taking pictures of them. Ranmaru hands Ai another shade once he's done with the current one, and then he's using a disposable lip wand to brush bruised navy onto Ai's mouth.

“You can gloss it over later if you want, but I'd rather you not smear lipstick on me.” Ranmaru mutters, and Ai makes an agreeing noise. “Also, don't you people have jobs?”

The stagehands startle and scamper off, and Ai's mouth twitches on a smile. Instead he reaches for a puffy brush carefully and wipes away the fallout under his eyes.

“There.” Ranmaru says, standing up and watching Ai's progress. “I didn't mean to give you blue, but that's  _ icy _ .”

Ai grins, and Ranmaru starts to buff foundation into Ai's jaw. He mumbles something about oxidation under his breath. Ai finds himself smiling. Ranmaru convinces Ai to draw on a catty wing over his eyes, and then they're being ushered onto the edges of the soundstage.

Ai kisses Ranmaru's cheek thankfully as he thoughtlessly fans Ai's own face so that the fix plus dries quicker.

* * *

If Ayami is surprised by Ai's change in look, she hides it fairly well. Under the intense lights, settled next to Ranmaru and across from Ayami, Ai feels  _ hot. _

The audience isn't cooing at Ai as they tend to do at his cuteness, instead gawking openly at the bold makeup that makes his eyes brilliant and smiles razor sharp. His marbled leggings and light wash shorts make his legs look like a dream, which totally ends up working in his favor when they start up one of the games.

“We play a song, and Providence needs to dance to it; if he gets most of them right, he avoids punishment~!” Ayami explains, and Ai laughs, throwing his head back.

The first round is  _ 1000% Love _ by Starish, and Ai immediately gets into the groove of it. It's easy switching between leading moves, and Ayami claps.

“Even I know this.” Ranmaru says, rolling his eyes.

“Then let's switch it!” Ayami agrees easily.

One of Camus's songs begins to play, and Ai cackles;  _ Zettai Reido Emotion _ curls into Ai's blood with old familiarity, and Ai wonders if he can force this performance down Camus's throat next time they meet up.

“Jokes on you guys,” he says, already working himself into the drastically different rhythm. “I help Camus choreograph his songs all the time.”

Ayami is absolutely enthralled by how smooth Ai's movements are, matching with Camus's strong voice. Ai sings along under his breath, smiling into the camera as if he were promoting his own song.

Hey, if he didn't hype up his best friend, he'd be a pretty shit friend.

It changes again, and while Ai doesn't like  _ Heaven's Gate _ by any measure, he'd rather drop dead than lose to Heavens. It's at least a simple choreography that Ai doesn't have to put much effort into it. Ai is in the middle of a wide spin when they change the song again--  _ Bright Road _ blasts through the studio, and Ai laughs wildly. Ranmaru groans and covers his face with embarrassment, but Ai dances along and tries to catch his attention.

“Ranmaru~” Ai yells, and when Ranmaru looks up, he tries to coax him over. Ranmaru staunchly denies him with a single flat glare.

“You're really good at this, Mikaze!” Ayami praises, and the music trails off; Ai fans himself and cools off as he returns to his seat.

“Thank you.” Ai says easily, bowing shallowly. “I actually enjoy dancing a lot, and I have a  _ very _ famous dance partner, and it's definitely not Ranmaru.”

Ai winks into the camera as the audience laughs, and Ayami tries to dig a little to know who it is. Ranmaru just sticks out his tongue over his shoulder at Ai, knowing that Ai's only “very famous” friend who would ever recreationally dance is Ren.

“Does Kurosaki know?” Ayami sidles up to Ranmaru's seat.

“I do.” Ranmaru admits, smirking as she tries to pry it out of him. Ranmaru raises his hands defensively. “If he doesn't want to tell, I won't tell. He's scarier when he's mad than you are.”

Ai lets out a peel of laughter, bending over with his arms around his middle.

“He doesn't  _ look _ very scary.” Ayami pouts, obviously amused.

“That's what everyone says.”

Ai's still giggling as he puts a knuckle under Ranmaru's chin and brushes his thumb on the skin right under his lip.

“You're so smart, honey, who'd have thought.” Ai coos mockingly, and laughs along with the audience as Ranmaru pretends to take a bite at Ai's hand.

“You're being mean on live television.” Ranmaru reminds him, pointing between Ayami and Ai. “See what I mean?”

Seeing Ranmaru hold a repertoire with Ayami, however mean spirited, makes Ai smile, and so he drops his head onto Ranmaru's shoulder comfortably.

“Me and Ranmaru,” he says with a sigh. “We're a little mean to each other sometimes, but there's kindness to it too. In fact, I know people think Ranmaru is all mean all the time, but he can be really kind to me.”

Ranmaru seems a little stunned at Ai's declaration, and he lets Ai curl their pinkies together without much protest. Ai lifts his head and instead looks down and to the side, almost more embarrassed than he expected to be.

“I don't mean to shatter the bad boy image Ranmaru has going on; it fits him amazingly ‘cause he's got the attitude, but there's more than that. And I guess I'm just a little glad I get to witness that kindness.”

Ranmaru groans softly, and there's a bunch of joyful, enamored noises from the viewers. Ayami coos and covers her cheeks with a glimmer in her eyes.

“How am I supposed to be rude when you say that kind of stuff?” Ranmaru grouches, using his free hand to turn Ai's face towards him. “You're disturbingly  _ cute _ .”

Ai snorts, and it's  _ Ai; _ Ai is cutting through Providence for a moment, and Ranmaru feels his Pavlovian response kick in.

“You're sweet sometimes.” Ai whispers, quiet enough that the mics only pick up a wisp of noise. “It's just-- that's the truth. I'm trying that honesty thing.”

The Pavlovian response in Ranmaru's head is to kiss Ai whenever he's showing that sliver of genuine emotion. So he leans in, and kisses Ai; a soft, chaste kiss that riles the audience into even louder screaming, and Ayami is beyond shocked, just bouncing with a huge grin.

Ai whines and hides his face into Ranmaru's shoulder. Ranmaru cups the back of Ai's neck and laughs at him.

* * *

 

The internet is appropriately smitten with Ai and Ranmaru's first public appearance. There's something to be said about tenacity and dedication when Ai sees just how many gifs there are of their kiss, but he'd rather not touch on that. In between, there's a comparison picture of Ai's usual makeup versus the darker look he'd worn (captioned  _ we stan a makeup king _ to Ai's great humor) and pictures of Ranmaru just being handsome on camera. Ranmaru, who is currently burying his nose into Ai's shoulder from behind, is swaying tiredly.

“You looked really handsome on the show.” Ai murmurs kindly, free hand rising to pet Ranmaru's hair as he continues to scroll through his feed.

“Please put me out of my misery.” Ranmaru groans.

“We're almost done.” Ai assures, making good use of his acrylics before he takes them off in two days. “Once we're done with Seiichiro, you can go straight to bed. I'd have come alone if I could, but he  _ is _ your manager.”

Ranmaru frowns and just makes himself more comfortable as they wait for Seiichiro to let them in.

* * *

Ai learns very quickly he hates punishment games that involves being smacked around as punishment. Most of the time it's never anything hard, forehead flicks or getting bopped with a toy, but it unsettles something in the empty corners of Ai’s mind that he'd rather not touch. So while he tends to avoid punishment fairly well (he's quick, clever, talented; he is, after all,  _ Providence _ through and through), there's nothing done 100% right.

So the host for tonight's show, another mild variety show after two sit down interviews with shows Ranmaru at least mildly gets along with, gets Ranmaru in front of Ai. Ai already tried to wheedle his way out of punishment with cuteness and failed, so he just pouts and waits for it.

The smack to his forehead doesn't actually manage to hurt-- but it  _ does _ make a satisfying slapping noise that has the host laughing. Ai has to acknowledge Ranmaru just spared him, so he kisses Ranmaru's cheek backstage and let's him draw his own conclusions.

* * *

Despite the fact Ai doesn't necessarily  _ need _ to write anymore music-- he has more than enough completed pieces stored away to put out three new albums and 2 EP’s in one shot-- he finds himself doing it anyway. The apartment is empty except for him and Ranmaru, who's taking a nice nap since they have to go to another god forsaken interview together later tonight. Ai is on the ground, laid out under the coffee table with a scattering of papers around himself; usually he did this digitally, but his phone is dead and charging on the countertop, and Aine had displaced the drawers from the music room into the living room anyway in his search for his god forsaken golden kazoo.

(Aine owned a golden kazoo. He lost it somewhere in the music room. It was inside the bell of an unused decorative trumpet in the storage closet. Ai just. . . he just didn't want to question his cousin anymore after knowing him for ten years. It was too much. He was over it.)

So, Ai had somehow landed on the floor scribbling away, and some part of his brain realizes he picked this up from Reiji and Aine, but he's resolutely ignoring that part of his brain in favor of working out whatever’s under his skin.

“I didn't know you composed too.” Ranmaru's sleep-warm voice says suddenly; he fishes for one of the errant sheets Ai had bastardized with his pencil and gives it a good look. “I like this one.”

“You can keep it, I hate it.” Ai mumbles, feeling frustration curling up his spine, tensing his muscles and twisting his mouth into a grimace.

Ranmaru blinks, looking at the sheet again.

“. . . Why?”

“Mood is wrong for what's in my head.”

“Well it must've been right at some point for you to put it down.” Ranmaru reasons, watching the smooth scratches Ai puts down on his paper. “And the lyrics underneath, they're good too.”

“. . . I don't hate those.” Ai admits after a beat, dropping his pencil and wriggling away from his papers. His shirt rides up a little, but the carpet is warm enough that he doesn't notice, and Ranmaru resolutely stares at silvery scar tissue as Ai hides his face into his arms. “Something is stuck in my head and I can't get it out.”

It's-- damn, it's a wide, gnarly looking scar, but it looks old and smooth and blends fairly well into his skin. Ranmaru wants to ask  _ so much, _ but he and Ai had been  _ so good _ lately and Ai is so afraid of being asked things and Ranmaru just wants answers. But the AC starts chugging along, and the chill kisses Ai's skin sweetly, and when Ai touches bare skin with a wandering hand, he totally freezes.

His head slowly tilts towards Ranmaru, and Ranmaru pretends to be looking through the sheet again. But. But he can't help but look at Ai again, and Ranmaru can't even feign for an inch that he didn't see it.

“I won't pry.” Ranmaru manages to get out, even if it feels like a lie.

“You want to.”

“When don't I?”

Ai opens his mouth, then closes it, eyes thoughtful. There's a fear to it, too, which Ranmaru has come to accept. It's actually goddamn tragic.

“Ranmaru,” Ai says, a smoky lilt to his voice that sparks curiosity in Ranmaru's gut. “If you tell me a secret, then I'll tell you about it.”

“. . . An eye for an eye.” Ranmaru says resolutely. “I'll get back to you on that secret.”

_ “I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.” _ Ai recites, soft and teasing but so obviously weak. “Rilke.”

Ranmaru is gonna have a hard time finding a secret worth trading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again this isnt a promise of regular updates again, im still fucked up the brain so just. . . take it for what it is
> 
> [ya tu sabes](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/)


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